


We Are Strange, In Our Worlds

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 90's, Art Lover!Luke, City Fair, Dates, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Museums, Roadtrips, Skinny Dipping, Strangers to Lovers, Summer Love, Water Balloon Fights, musician!michael, shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:45:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 84,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: “That’s what I want,” Michael tells him, resting his head on Luke's shoulder as he looks fondly up at the stage. “That’s where I want to be. Everything I’m doing, everything I’ve been through — I just wanna be on a stage, with a loving crowd singing my songs back to me.”Luke smiles, kissing his forehead and speaking with his lips against Michael's skin. “It’s going to happen. I know it is.”-Luke's an aspiring artist, and Michael's a traveling musician. They cross paths in Hillvue in the summer of ‘95.





	1. We Are Young

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Alright_ by Supergrass
> 
> [Here is a playlist made especially for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/60zPVSLj6n3ctRHedMJb3i)
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my amazing betas [Ella](http://spnife.tumblr.com) and [Mehgan](http://mehconomancy.tumblr.com) for putting up with all my commas.
> 
> Another shout out to [Michael](http://tippingbrandy.tumblr.com) for teaching me about art.

****Luke’s third year at uni is over the moment his Art History class lets out. His roommate is staying behind in Sydney for another few days to pack up his belongings, but Luke’s been packed for weeks.

As soon as he’s dismissed, Luke grabs his books and flees from the class before the professor can even sneak in a ‘Happy Summer’. Getting off campus as soon as possible is his only mission — it’s a long ride back to Hillvue, and he wants to get there before dark.

“Luke!” A sharp voice yells. Luke knows whom it is without looking, seeing as he only has one American friend; her adccent’s always a dead giveaway. “Hey, Luke, wait up!”

Luke slows his steps down so Ava can catch up to him. Being stalled for a few minutes won’t add too much time to his journey. Besides, this is the last time he’ll see anyone for another three months.

“Hey.”

“I’m a little lost here, Luke.” Ava doesn’t waste time with any pleasantries, getting straight to her point. “Jeff said he invited you to the party over in Pollock Halls, which I’m sure you know is all I’ve been talking about for the last three weeks. I was certain you’d be going with me, but Alex says that you’re leaving tonight. So you may want to talk to your roommate because I know for a fact you’re not _really_ going to be missing this party.”  

“I’m actually leaving right now,” Luke corrects, quickening his pace to prove his point.

It doesn’t work. Ava stops walking altogether, making Luke trip over his own feet so he can backtrack to where Ava is standing with her mouth open in a dramatization of surprise. “What?” she asks. “You can’t even wait one day so you can come with me tonight?”

Luke was invited to the party earlier in the week, and he'd shut the offer down but was then asked to “think on it”. He did so knowing that he didn’t want to feel pressured into going when all he's wanted for two months is to get out of Sydney.

He starts walking again, hoping Ava is keeping up because he doesn’t want to have to repeat himself. “It’s a four and a half hour drive back home. I’d rather get it done tonight and - “

“You’ll be exhausted, Lukey,” Ava interrupts. “Just come with me to the party, and you can leave bright and early tomorrow.“

“I don’t know,” Luke replies, considering the idea of waiting until morning to leave. He'd surely beat traffic if he left early enough. He could make it work if not for - “I promised my parents I’d be home tonight.”

“So call them,” Ava offers, “and then call Alex and tell him to get ready because he takes forever.”

“I’ll only go if I can leave at seven tomorrow.”

Ava laughs, bumping her shoulder against Luke’s as they walk together, exiting the student plaza and heading towards the car park. “Lukey,” she chirps, “you could leave at midnight and I’d be fine with it. I just don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m glad to know you have only my best interest in mind.”

Ava sighs, stomping her feet, though it only helps in slowing her down. “It’ll be your best interest when that cute sophomore from your English Lit class asks you out.”

“So we can have our date in February?” Luke asks sarcastically. “I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”  

He has to remember to actually give his parents a call. It’s one thing to postpone your trip home, one that they’ve been counting the days ‘til, but it’s completely different to not give any notice. It would make for a funny story, though they’d probably murder him before anybody got to laugh at it.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why you’re leaving,” Ava protests. They’re almost to Luke’s car, and he's hoping he won’t have to talk about much in it. “It’s your last summer before you get your degree. You should stay here and party with us.”

That’s what he had originally planned, funnily enough. He’d wanted to stay in Sydney and spend his last summer preparing for his last year, but money is tight, and he can always make memories with his friends back home.

“I can’t afford summer rent, you know that. Besides, I want to spend some time with my family before they disown me for changing my major.”

“That’s insane to me, Lukey,” Ava chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s been three years now, you’d think you’d’ve gotten the strength to just tell them already.”

“Every time I go to say something, I get too scared.”

“Don’t be a pussy about it - ”

“I’m getting in my car now,” he snaps, already sick of talking about this. It’s a sensitive subject for him, as all of his friends are aware, so the fact that Ava got so far with talking about it is nothing short of a miracle. “You can either drop the topic and get in, or you can walk home.”

Ava stops to get a good look in the car, and Luke is already rolling his eyes because another ‘forbidden topic’ is his car. “Jesus, Lukey,” Ava starts, brave in Luke’s mind for even attempting to say anything about his vehicle. “I might just walk home! When’s the last time you went through a car wash?”

So he doesn’t wash his car. It’s not a big deal. A little dirt never hurt anybody, and as long as his car runs okay, then he's okay. He's had family and friends alike try to get him to clean him car, but it’s just not going to happen. Car Culture insists that a clean car is worth more, but he doesn’t feel like spending money just to be seen as a higher class level.

It’s a twisted system.  

“You mean you want me to waste ten dollars on something completely superficial?” Luke muses. “I might as well just get my oil changed while I’m at it.”

He gets into the car and shuts the door behind him to finalize him words, but through the side and rear view mirrors he can see Ava walking quickly, mouth agape, to the passenger-side door. “Out of concern for your safety, when’s the last time you got your oil changed?” she asks as she opens the door.

“I haven’t.”

Ava chokes out a single laugh. “You’ve never gotten your oil changed?” Luke shakes his head but sticks his key in the ignition, wanting nothing more than to drive away. “You’re the least exciting person I know, and yet, this is the biggest risk I’ve ever seen anybody take.”

“It’s just an oil change, Ava,” he insists, gesturing for her to get inside the car and watching as she follows. “Honestly, what’s going to happen? Will my car explode?”

“It could!” she yells. “The engine could warp completely!”

He had asked hypothetically, but Ava’s tone, and the set to her lips has Luke wondering if maybe he should even be driving. “Could it really?” he wonders. “That’s insane!”

Ava pauses, doesn’t say her piece right away. It takes Luke looking back at her to prompt a response. “How are you even living right now?”

“I’m not sure I am.”

☀

The party doesn’t get as wild as was advertised. It mostly features the art and music departments getting drunk off of wine and beer as they dance to the playlist featuring only Morrissey and the soundtrack from _A Chorus Line_. Luke stays shamefully sober, too afraid of a hangover to indulge himself in any of the beverages they’re offering.

When he's on the road the following morning, he sends a silent thank you to his past self. The four and a half hour drive is tedious enough without a headache and a queasy stomach making everything worse.

Time goes by as slowly as it usually does, especially once he’s out of the city and passing mostly countryside, so when his gas light goes on, Luke is surprised to see that the next exit leads right into Hillvue. Having filled his tank only an hour after heading out, the mileage he got was incredible.

He pulls into the servo and grabs his credit card out of his wallet sitting in the passenger seat. As he's filling his tank, he looks across the car park and notices two figures hunched together by the tire pumps. They’ve got something colorful in their hands that they’re filling and then transferring into the backseat of a car. What are those, anyway? Are those -

“Hey!” Luke finds himself filterless, shouting across the car park. “You know that air doesn’t make balloons float, right?”

He can see now that it’s two men. Both have shortish hair, though the blond’s is shagger while the brunette’s is in a sloppy quiff. The blond is looking over at him, but Luke can’t quite see his face, can only hear a quiet, “what?”

“The air,” he tries to communicate. “It doesn’t - _shit_.” In realizing that shouting at each other will get them nowhere, Luke grabs his wallet and locks the car doors, walking over to where they’re tying off a pink balloon. “The air won’t make your balloons float.”

The blond looks up at Luke. The first thing he notices are his mischievous green eyes, takes note of just how completely striking this man is, managing to captivate Luke with just a glance. “Is that right?”

“No. Well, yes,” Luke stutters through his answer, tripped up in his own thoughts and caught off guard by this man’s appearance. “It _is_ right. You need helium to make them float.”  

“But what if they float away?” The blond smiles, and Luke knows right there that he's messing with him, not taking what he's saying seriously. “Then what will I do?”

Luke doesn’t respond at first, not sure if the blond’s humor is with good intent. He doesn’t want to make a joke of it if the words were spiteful. “There’s no need to be condescending,” he finally decides on, almost regretting it when the blond’s eyes light up even more, smiling big enough to let his teeth show.

“That may be true, Princess,” he agrees, “but the only condescension here is your designer jacket stepping out of the dirtiest car I’ve ever seen.”

 _There we go with the car again_ , Luke thinks, self-consciously looking back to his vehicle. It’s caked in dirt — truly an eyesore — but it has character. _What_ character he isn’t sure, but character nonetheless.

“I like to make the proper things priority,” he says, tapping his toes together and going bowlegged in the process. “I spend my money on the important things.”

“And jackets are important?”

Luke looks to where the brunette is still silently inflating balloons, and he quirks his eyebrow at them. “They’re more important than air.” The blond instantly laughs, and even his friend chuckles along. Luke's confused, so he goes back through his words and rolls his eyes when he hears how it sounds. “You know what I mean.”

“Right,” the blond nods, still giggling. “They must be fuckin’ amazing if they’re more important than air.”

Luke doesn’t mind the blond laughing at him, oddly enough. He likes the light, airy sound it makes, enjoys how it makes his stomach flutter and his skin flush. It doesn’t sound unkind, the way he's laughing, feels like Luke is in on the joke.

“Your gas is done.”

Luke jumps, turning toward the brunette as he’s tying up a yellow balloon. “Sorry?” he urges, having missed his words completely.  

“Your gas,” he repeats, pointing his finger across the parking lot and towards Luke’s car. “It’s just unclicked.”

“Oh,” he begins, turning back towards the pump. “Thank you. Um, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” The blond smiles before going back to his bag of balloons to fill up.

“Welcome to Hillvue.” Luke turns to where the brunette is watching him, probably having noticed him staring at his friend, and thinks, possibly, he may know him from somewhere. He’s incredibly familiar looking, and it almost frustrates Luke that he can’t place a name to the face.

Luke's not one to overstay his welcome, so he nods. “Right.” He walks back to the car, seeing that without his supervision the entire tank was filled. It’s good to know that his distraction wasn’t a nuisance, unless his quickened pulse and unexplainable smile was a bother to anyone.

Luke puts the nozzle back up and closes his gas cap. He unlocks his door and opens it, but before getting in, he looks back over to the tire pump, his timing perfect as he catches the blond looking back at him as well. “The jacket is a knock off, by the way,” he yells.

“I could tell.”

Luke gets into his car, smiling as he drives off. He always was weak for a pretty boy teasing him.

His parents’ home isn’t too far from the servo, less than ten minutes away. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, so it’s not very hard to navigate back home.

The last time he was home was for his winter break, and his mom almost didn’t let him return back to university. Though, if she'd have known that Luke changed his major to Art History two years prior, she never would’ve let him go in the first place.

It’s not that his parents are classist, or that they forced Luke into applying for the law program. In fact, his parents didn’t mention law until after Luke himself did. It was his original plan, to go to a big university and become a lawyer. At the time he'd been so excited for it. Now, though, he can’t remember why he'd started on the track he had.

Then, first term of his freshman year, one of his classes at the University of Sydney had been cancelled just after everybody sent their schedules in, and the system rerouted him into an Art Appreciation class. He hadn’t been worried about it, planning on making the lost credit up over the summer or adding on an extra course in the upcoming term. He'd assumed that, if anything, Art Appreciation would be an easy A that he might not get much out of but could still enjoy.

Only, he started to love the class. It’d been more than he expected. It wasn’t an easy grade; the assignments and tests were challenging. It was a class he actually needed to study for, having to stay up all night just to retain the knowledge he needed. The class was interesting as well, completely absorbing Luke into the subject matter. It wasn’t a hard decision to change his major before his second term, so he did it and thanks himself everyday for the switch.

The only issue is that he never told his parents. Every time he went to bring up the matter of his course study, they would rave on about how amazing it was that their youngest son is a law student.

They’re not trying to make him feel guilty, but they’re _definitely_ making him feel guilty.

He always goes home with the promise that he's going to tell his parents about the switch, but, as sure as he is that the sun will rise tomorrow, he knows it won’t happen. Even as he's pulling into the driveway, staring up at his childhood home, he knows that he doesn’t have the courage to stand up to his parents, to tell them that he changed his major without even lasting a year in the law courses.

He turns off his car and pops the boot, knowing that any minute his parents are going to be rushing out of the house to greet him. He wants to have at least some of his bags out and ready to go inside, if only so that the pleasantries don’t go on for too long.

“There he is!” Luke’s mom, Liz, comes running out of the house, barefoot, onto the gravel driveway. It must be painful, but she doesn’t even flinch as she wraps Luke up in a tight, smothering embrace.

“Mom,” Luke whines, pleading with his mother as the hug lasts far past what is comfortable. “I was just here in July.”

Liz scoffs, shaking her head into Luke’s shoulder. “You’re my baby, and four months is far too long. Stop waiting until your holidays to come home.”

“I try not to, but classes get busy - ”

“Too busy to make time for your poor old mother?” she interrupts, pulling her body away from Luke’s to display her shock, but keeping her hands on his shoulder. “I know that you’re going to be a lawyer, but is it not unlawful to leave for six - ”

“Liz,” Luke’s dad, Andy, admonishes, stepping out of the house. He’s wearing shoes, Luke notes, so he knows he took his time before coming outside and is ready to help. “He's just gotten home. Leave the boy alone.”

“Hi, dad,” Luke smiles, pulling away from his mom to open his arms for his father.

“Hi, son, we’re glad to see you.”

He pulls away and walks back to the boot of his car. Luke says a silent prayer that at least one of his parents is concerned with his belongings. His mother, on the other hand, looks about thirty seconds from bursting.

“We have so much planned for your visit, darling,” she starts by shouting. Luke loves his mother, truly. He loves how kind and welcoming she is, how excitable she gets, and how much she loves to love. Luke adores his mom, but sometimes all of that energy is far too much. Especially after a four and a half hour car ride. “We’re going to have so many barbecues and family nights, and - ”

“But why don’t you take this inside and unpack first?” Andy offers, holding out one of the smaller bags for Luke to grab. It has his paints and some clothing if he remembers correctly.

“That sounds good.”

As he walks over to grab the bag, his dad quietly mentions, “And it’s only one barbeque, at your aunt’s.”

“Which - ”

“Darla,” he answers the unasked question, “Kim still isn’t speaking to us because your mother refuses to accept her apology for Christmas.”

For all that he tried to keep quiet, Liz Hemmings can hear drama from a mile away. “She broke your Grandmother’s vase,” she defends, sounding put out about the fact that her husband made her out to be the petty one. “The expensive one with the vines. I don’t think I’ll _ever_ forgive that woman.”

It’s silent, nobody wanting to speak, to have the task of dealing with what’s been said. So Luke doesn’t address it, instead smiling kindly and rushing to hug Liz again. “I really missed you, mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she smiles. “I missed you too. More than you know.” As a way to stop herself from having a good cry — Luke’s only guessing her motive based on the shine in her eyes — she shoos Luke with a flap of her hand. “Now, get unpacked so you can tell us all about your trip. I’ll never tire of hearing your stories.”

☀

It’s not until he's been home for three days that Luke decides to get out of the house. He's spent his time telling his parents stories, keeping them updated on every major event that’s happened since his last visit. But now he's ready to get out, to do something that doesn’t involve helping his mom with the cleaning or the cooking - although he may be more of a hindrance than a help with the latter as he knows fuck-all about the kitchen.  

He knows he could always see some old friends from school, but it’s been far too long since he's spoken to any of them, and making sudden plans isn’t something he can see himself doing. Instead, he decides to bring lunch to his dad. It’s been ages since he's seen the office or any of his dad’s co-workers. Along with getting to see everybody, it’ll give him a chance to go out in town. He spends entirely too much time inside already. It’s time to get out.

He doesn’t know about any new restaurants in town, doesn’t know if there even are any, but also doesn’t take the time to look. If there’s one thing he's sure of, it’s that Andy Hemmings’ favorite restaurant is the Red Lion on Missenden Street.

Around lunchtime, Luke grabs his keys out of the bowl by the door and heads out. He drives the familiar route to the restaurant, loving the recognition that ignites in his mind at every place he sees, enjoying the memories that are thrown at him. The drive is almost too short.

When first walking into the Red Lion, there’s a small fountain by the door. As a kid, Andy would give Luke a penny and tell him to make a wish. Now, as he's walking through the entryway, the fountain catches all of his attention, and Luke finds himself reaching into his pocket for a coin. He could wish he had the nerve to tell his parents about switching his major. He could wish that if he ever _does_ get the nerve to tell them, they’ll accept him. He could wish that somehow, he could just say what he needs to say.

But none of that is what’s on his mind as he's readying to throw his coin into the fountain. As he looks around the restaurant and sees all of the tables filled up with friends getting together, and families sharing laughter, all that’s running through his head is how much he wants to do that, to just enjoy his summer.

He thinks for all of a few seconds before he clenches his fist and closes his eyes.

So, as he tosses his penny in the fountain, he finds himself thinking, _I wish this summer will be something to remember_.

There are no fireworks, no sparkling lights flashing, or the sound of bells shimmering in the background. Nothing magical happens, and Luke feels a little let down at the anticlimactic result after making such a meaningful wish.

He approaches the counter, not letting his disappointment show as he waits for the cashier to ask for his order. “Can I get a cheeseburger and chips?” he requests, “No drink. To go, please.”  

“Absolutely. It’ll be right up.”

He watches as the worker walks into the kitchen, and takes a seat along the bar top. He considers using the payphone outside to call Andy, just to let him know that he'll be stopping by, but the opportunity to surprise him is going to be more fun than giving in to his temptation to occupy himself.

Coming home from university always has a dual effect on his mind. He's happy, of course he loves seeing his family and being back on familiar territory, but it’s also really dull. He often finds himself waiting for even the smallest of adventures to present themselves. If it continues the way it has been, he thinks he'll start getting excited about running low on bread.

Sure, he wishes he had less empty time on his hands, wishes he had more than only Ashton to spend it with — or that Ashton was even here so they _could_ spend time together. It’s just a little lonely, is all. Things will pick up when Ashton gets back, and maybe they can check in on some older friends, but until then, things will stay mundane and uneventful in the slowest of ways.

The scrape of a chair echoes in the restaurant, and Luke reacts involuntarily by looking over his shoulder to the corner table. There’s only person sitting there — the brunette from the servo. He still looks incredibly familiar, and Luke struggles, racking his brain until -

Well, that’s Calum Hood, he's almost positive. They went through school together but never really spoke growing up. He remembers distinctly one time Calum and his group of friends broke the vending machine in C Hall and started giving drinks out for free. Luke didn’t get to grab one, was on the other side of the building at the time, but the entire student body was buzzing about it for a week.

Calum Hood is a legend.

“I saw your dirty car pull up,” a voice says to Luke’s left. He turns, finding the blond from the servo sliding into a seat next to him. His smile is still as bright as Luke remembers, and he has the same air of confidence surrounding him. Luke smiles in return, can’t help himself. “Had to make sure there was only one of you in town.”

“There might not be,” he responds, looking out the window, seeing a clear view to his car. “There’s lots of dirty cars in Oz.”

The blond laughs, pulling Luke’s attention back to him. “But yours is _actually_ the worst I’ve ever seen,” he says. His grin is gone, but there’s an amusing lilt to his voice. “Are you sure it’s capable of driving? Doesn’t all the dirt slow it down?”

Luke shrugs, “I drove up from Sydney just fine. I wouldn’t think it slowed me down a bit.”

“You said you wouldn’t think,” he points out, leaning in closer. Luke’s heart races. “But you don’t know, do you? You could be going faster, Princess.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not in any rush then, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is.”

Something in the kitchen buzzes, sharp and sudden, pulling both of their attentions away from each other. It strikes Luke again just how absolutely mesmerizing this boy is, attractive in an alternate way, so subtle in the way he holds attention.  

“I noticed you made a wish in the fountain, too,” he comments, gesturing to the small fountain in the corner by the door.

“Were you watching me the whole time?”

“Of course,” he comments, smirking as he watches Luke closely. “I could watch those legs forever.”

“Oh my goodness - ”

“You’re blushing!” he teases, lifting off of his stool as he coos. Luke can feel his cheeks heating up, but he doesn’t even have it in hi, to be that ashamed, too high off of the feeling of making the boy’s eyes light up the way they are. “Oh, that’s cute.”

“I…” he trails off, not wanting to say anything, just wanting to watch the blond’s joy as he laughs at Luke.  

He fades out, quieting down, but still smiling as he looks past Luke’s head toward the door. he gestures with his hand, saying, “So, the fountain. You made a wish?”

“Uh, yeah. I did.”

“What’d you wish for then?” he asks. Luke hesitates. Not so much because he's superstitious about it not coming true, but more so that it’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating that his summer is so dull that he's wasting wishes on some simple entertainment. “Go on, you can tell me.”

Luke doesn’t answer honestly, can’t find it in himself to expose just how boring of a person he is. If anything comes out of this conversation, it’s that he wants the boy to want to continue talking to him. Possibly forever.

He lies, “I wished that nobody would spit in the burger.”

“Hm,” the blond considers, tilting his head to look through the rectangular window and into the kitchen where Luke thinks he can see the meal being finished. “Shouldn’t have told me that, I’d say. Now it won’t come true.”

“It’s a good thing it’s not my burger then, right?

The blond is absolutely delighted, eyebrows lifting and jaw dropping in pure elation. “Right,” he coughs out along with a few chuckles.

Luke knows he isn’t an exciting person, this summer proving that to be the truest of truths, but sitting here with this boy, allowing him to poke fun and laughing along, makes him feel like the most interesting man in the world.

“Here you go, sir,” the cashier interrupts, setting a box down on the counter, punching the order into the register. “That’ll be seven dollars.”

he reaches into his pocket to grab his cash, and the blond says, “I’ll catch you around then?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers, handing the cashier a tenner. “Definitely - ” but he's already walking away when Luke goes to ask for his name, or his number, or even to just say goodbye face to face. Calum Hood is watching him as the blond sits at their table, and Luke’s stomach tilts sideways.

It definitely didn’t go the way he wanted.

 

Andy doesn’t work too far from The Red Lion, only about four minutes in the car, so the trip over isn’t what takes up his time. In fact, had he been able to walk right up to his dad’s office, the food would be too hot for him to eat right away.

But that’s not the case. It isn’t his lunch hour yet, still ten minutes out, so he has to sit in the lobby and wait. The receptionist is giving him an odd look, making him feel self-conscious, but there really isn’t anything he can do about it.

Andy walks into the lobby, a look of bemusement painted on his face. He heads straight for the reception desk, his nearly whispered voice still echoing slightly in the open room. The receptionist points him towards Luke, and when he turns to look, his face lights up. “They said there was a gangly young man waiting to bring me food, and I couldn’t think of anyone who would care enough to come visit _me_.”

“I stopped at Red Lion for you,” he tells him, holding up the takeaway box as he explains his presence, “got the usual.”

“Bless you, son,” he thanks, walking forward to approach him when he stands up. “You do treat your old man so kindly.” He takes the food out of his hand, opening it to check what’s inside. He seems more than happy with what he sees, and offers, “Do you want to come up to the office?”

“Sounds great.”

It’s been awhile since he's seen his dad’s office. The last time having been before he went away to university, so as he leads him back, he can’t remember what’s changed and what hasn’t. Andy waves to a few people through open doors and down narrow halls, but Luke doesn’t remember if he knows them.

He definitely shouldn’t wait four years before he comes back again.

The office is at the end of the hall on the first floor, and when they enter, Andy takes his place behind his desk, and Luke sits in a chair across from him, leaning back and getting comfortable.

“So what do you plan on doing while you’re in town?” he asks, opening his food and beginning to eat. “Going to see any of your old friends?”

“I was thinking of going to see Ashton,” Luke tells him, not knowing what else to say. he's not exactly sure of how to tell his dad that the office visit is the only interesting thing, not including strange pretty boys, to have happened since his arrival, “but he doesn’t get back from uni for another week.”

Andy hums as he swallows a mouthful of the burger. “You know I love Ashton like a son, but he can’t be the only friend you’ve got. I seem to recall an entire crowd of teenagers in my house after your mom and I trusted you during our vacation.”

Luke rolls his eyes, sighing when his dad’s eyes narrow at him. “Why do you always bring that up? I apologized. I did my time.”

“I’m never going to stop, son. You threw a party - ”

“I was fifteen,” he cuts him off, “I was young.”

“Regardless,” He waves his hand, stalling for time as he takes another bite. “I’ll hold that over your head until the day I die.”

Luke can’t stop himself from snorting at the words. Every time he has a conversation with his dad, that one mistake comes up without fail. “Have I ever told you that mom’s my favorite?”

“Mom’s everyone’s favorite,” he waves Luke off, seemingly careless to the words. “She hasn’t a mean bone in her body. I’d be concerned if she wasn’t your favorite.”

For all that he says it’s been dull this summer, he still enjoys being in his company, loves exchanging jokes and stories. If there’s anything he's most thankful for in life, it’s that he has a great relationship with his parents.

Now if he could only tell the truth about his degree…

“So you’ve really got no other friends in town?” Andy asks as he finishes off the burger, eyeing the chips settled neatly next to them.

“Well I heard that there’s a party going on tomorrow,” he brings up. He ran into an old friend from high school at the market earlier in the week and was invited, but he hasn’t even considered going, not too hot to spend time with people he hasn’t talked to since he left for uni. Especially with such a throw-away invitation — a last minute invite in the cashier line. “But I’d rather just stay in with you and mom.”

Andy shakes his. “Nonsense,” he insists, waving Luke off. “Go to your party. You’ve spent three nights with us, I think we can handle one night without you.”

“I don’t know - ”

“It’s settled you’re going,” he decides. “Now tell me about university. How’s that roommate of yours doing?”

“He's a nightmare,” Luke jokes.

Andy laughs, “So are you.” He closes his box of food, having finished off the last of the chips. He leans backs, hand resting against his belly with a satisfied smile on his face, making Luke chuckle. “This is the best lunch I’ve had in weeks. Thank you, Luke.”

☀

It takes Andy nearly pushing him out the door for Luke to actually go to the party. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go out — because he really, _really_ does — it’s just that his friends from school were… just that. He didn’t much keep in contact with anyone other than Ashton, choosing instead to fade out from their lives.

And it’s not that he's afraid or anything, he isn’t sure that anybody would have a right to be mad, or if they would be at all, distance and time coming between old friendships. The thought of staying at a party filled with people he doesn’t have the strongest urge to reconnect with doesn’t exactly appeal to him. he lets his mom know that he won’t be gone for much more than an hour, hoping to just stop in, say hello to a few old friends, and then head back home where he can hopefully catch something good on the television.

The party is only about a block away from his house, so he ditches his car and walks, figuring that if he'll have to listen to how exciting everyone else’s life is, he might as well keep his drinking options open.

It’s as he's turning onto the pavement leading up to the door that Luke pauses to shake his head. he doesn’t like the bitter edge his thought process has taken, so he takes a moment to get into a happier, more accepting space. The door is cracked open when he approaches, so he pushes it open and walks inside.

The music isn’t too loud, and the place isn’t too packed. It looks as though it only started an hour or so ago, and Luke’s more than happy to not have arrived in the prime of everything. If he makes his rounds quickly, he can leave before things really begin to get rowdy.

“Hey, Luke!” he's not even made it past the living room when he's stopped, a friendly voice calling out his name. In turning around, he sees Asli, the actual host of the party. “I’m so glad you’re back in town. Thank you for stopping by!” She doesn’t wait for a response, just walks away, smiling his way into a greeting with another guest, but Luke can’t say he's too bothered by it. The last thing he wants is to spend too long talking to people. After all, the shorter his conversations are kept, the sooner he can leave and go back home.

Luke walks through the doorway to what appears to be a sitting room. It looks like some people are setting a keg up for keg stands and Luke has to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes because this cliche kind of party is exactly what he avoids back at uni, so seeing it happening right before his eyes does nothing more than make him wish he was back at the house.

The kitchen is a little better. Filled with people talking, an upbeat soundtrack, and the holy grail of any party: a counter absolutely full of alcohol. It’s definitely got more variety than he's used to, but still — it’s the same energy to be expected from a house party.

It’s as he's browsing the alcohol that a body slides next to him. “Hey,” a voice greets. “If it isn’t the guy with the world’s dirtiest car.”

He doesn’t even have to look up to know whom it is, but he does anyway, feeling immediately captivated just like every time he sees the blond from the servo. “Oh, the balloon boy,” he greets, a playful smile on his face. “How are you?”

“Balloon boy?” he laughs, “Is that really how I’m known?”

“Well it was either that or stalker boy,” Luke jokes, almost cringing with how lame and monotonous it comes out. he pushes through, continuing, “considering I’ve yet to go somewhere in town and not see you.”

The blond scoffs, but his eyes are holding a bright sort of amusement. “That’s incredibly assumptive. What if it was you who was following me?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“Well can’t you at least give me a better alias?” he tries, voice tilting up in the most delightful way. “Like Beautiful boy, Enchanting boy, or like - ”

“Incredibly modest boy?” Luke interrupts, laughing.

“Well you could always just call me by my name: Michael.”

“Alright, Michael,” Luke grins, enjoying the way the name rolls off his tongue. “Sounds good.”

He doesn’t say anything after that and the boy — _Michael_ — scrunches his eyebrows, still smiling, but more so in bemusement than enjoyment. “Uh… can I know your name?”

“Oh of course,” Luke agrees. “All you had to do is ask. It’s Luke.”

“Luke,” Michael nods, smiling around the name himself, nodding as he jokes, “Right, Luke, you’re terrible.”

A laugh bursts straight out of his throat, an ugly, high pitched noise that has him racing to put his hand over his mouth as a blush stains his cheeks. “I’m taking that as a compliment, thank you.”

Michael joins in laughing, and for the first time since leaving the house, Luke’s happy that he did. Finally knowing the blond from the servo’s name, and getting to hear that laugh again, well, it’s the best thing to happen all night — all summer, really.

Michael’s about to say something in response, but a someone comes crashing into him. It’s Calum Hood, and he's flushed, positively vibrating with energy, smiling a mile wide and out of breath. “Michael, man,” he sings. “They’re starting keg stands, and I’m trying to break the record - ”

“Calum, hey,” Michael interrupts him. “This is Luke.”

Calum turns his attention to Luke and smiles. “Oh, hello. I’m Calum.”

“Yeah,” he nods, reaching a hand out and shaking Calum’s when he returns in kind. “We went to school together.”

Calum looks confused, like this is brand new information, and a hot spike of humiliation hits Luke, but then Calum is gasping, eyes lighting up in recognition. “Oh shit,” he remembers, fingers snapping as he continues, “I think I went to a party at your place in year eleven or something.”

“Yeah, that was mine,” Luke confirms, trying hard not to let his lack of enthusiasm show too much. “It was my friend Ashton’s idea but I got the mess so… the things we do for friends, I guess.”

“That was a pretty good party,” Calum rambles on. “You wanna join me for keg stands? You’re pretty tall, but you look light as a feather. We could easily - ”

“Calum…”

“Hm?” he hums, looking over at where Michael's eyeing him in disapproval. Luke watches, confused, as Calum looks between them before something suddenly hits him and he smirks. “Oh! Okay, right. I’ll just go back to whatever I was doing before.” He bumps his hip against Michael's, his tongue clicking as he continues, “You two have a great time. Get to know each other, share some stories - ”

“Calum!”

“Right, right,” Calum nods, waving his hand as he backs away. “I’m going. Catch you around, Michael. It was great meeting you, Luke.”

“You too,” Luke answers. After Calum’s a fair distance away, disappearing into the crowd of people, he comments, “That was really strange, what did - ”

“Can I mix you a drink?” Michael asks, reaching for an empty cup. “You’ve been standing here completely sober, and that can’t be fun.”

Luke grins, “Well I’ve been talking to you, so it hasn’t been too bad.”

“I love flattery,” Michael chirps, hands wrapping warmly around the cup, “so right now you’re making me a very happy guy. Will you let me mix you a drink?”

“Yeah, yes,” he agrees. “Go for it. Get me drunk.”

“Not too drunk, Princess,” Michael disagrees. It has Luke’s pulse stuttering with how content the pet name has him feeling. “Don’t want you to crash your car and risk some of the dirt coming off.”

He shakes his head, “I just live a block over, so I walked here. No car is at risk.”

Michael reaches across the table and grabs at some liquor. Luke doesn’t pay attention to what it is, but the smell of alcohol is masked by a thin veil of something fruity. Michael's biting his lip, looking deep in concentration as he mixes what appears to be pop with the fruity liquor and something else that he can’t identify.

“Well, if you want someone to walk you home later tonight,” Michael offers, “just come find me, and I’ll keep you company.”

“I’d love that.”

“Me too.”

The gentle smile on Michael's face as he finishes the drink makes Luke want to leave the party now, to walk out the door, ignore the faces of anyone else in the house, just so he can have a quiet, peaceful walk with Michael, so they can be alone and Luke can ask Michael about himself, can learn more about him and maybe find out if he'll continue to drive him wild.

“Now here, try this.”

Luke takes the drink from Michael's hands but stares at it for a moment before tentatively taking a sip. He's hesitant, not sure what to expect, but it’s good, so the sip turns into a gulp. “This is really good,” he drawls, loving that he can’t even taste the alcohol, only a fruity, citrusy flavor lighting up him senses. “What’s in this?”

“I can’t tell you,” Michael teases as he starts to mix a drink of his own. “It’s the only secret I have, and if I gave that away - ”

“You’re just full of shit, aren’t you?”

“That’s pretty much all I am, yeah,” Michael agrees. His eyes are dancing, and Luke feels like he could fall into something with this boy so easily. “Hey, you enjoy that drink, I’m gonna let you make your rounds, talk to some friends since I’m pretty sure you just got back to town? I do expect to see you at the end of the night though.”

“Of course, yeah,” he confirms. “I’ll come find you.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

It takes a lot of self control to actually leave the room, wanting too much to ignore everyone else at the party and just spend the night curled up in the kitchen having back and forths with Michael. It’s too tempting, but he doesn’t want to come off as clingy, so he makes himself leave.

He goes back through the sitting room, not even a little bit surprised to see Calum supporting the legs of a petite girl doing a keg stand. Calum looks like he's having the time of his life, and Luke kind of wishes he could find enjoyment out of being around so many people he doesn’t know, but all he feels is left out.  

Not in a bad way though.

He isn't haunted by the feeling of being an outsider, he doesn’t feel angry or sad about it. he only wants to leave, to go somewhere else and have an actual conversation with people. A party where they drink wine and discuss whether somebody’s gallery work was transformative or derivative.

He steps into the living room and immediately feels the urge to turn back around the second he sees Arzaylea sitting on the couch surrounded by a huddle of people. It sends him flashing back to his schooldays, when Arzaylea would make herself the constant center of attention, looking down on anybody that didn’t fit into her standard of “cool”.

Luke remembers watching Heathers with Ashton in year twelve, angrily comparing Arzaylea to Shannon Doherty - and then feeling guilty because it’s not like they’d ever been personally offended. They kept their distance from her, but Arzaylea always managed to sneak a quick chat in as they were eating lunch or waiting for first bell to start.

She never had a positive thing to say about anybody without it actually being an insult in disguise. She spoke with a fake-posh accent and had a holier-than-thou persona that made everybody who conversed with her want to run head-first into traffic. There was a possibility that she's changed since then, but it’s a big risk to take.

Unfortunately, Luke wasn’t able to escape Arzaylea’s radar, the woman in question gasping out a cringe-worthy, “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Luke Hemmings?”

“Oh,” Luke retorts, grimacing through a smile that he actually has to force onto his face. “Arzaylea. Wow, it’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” she giggles, and the noise sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Come sit, come sit. Sophia, move over and make room.”

Luke feels sorry for the poor girl that’s worked to sit next to Arzaylea all night, only to be forced away. “That’s alright,” he fights, trying to help Sophia. Nothing’s worse than being rejected by the person everyone wants to reject. “I don’t mind standing.”

“Nonsense,” she waves him off, patting the seat next to her as it becomes vacant. “It’s been, what? Four years? Come sit and tell me about university. How have you been?”

With great disdain, Luke walks over and takes a seat next to Arzaylea. Nobody around the circle seems to realize how difficult an act it is. “I’ve been, uh, pretty good,” he answers, thinking his answer through, figuring that if he gets straight to the point, they won’t have to talk for very long. “I’m about to start my fourth year at The University of Sydney with my BA in Art History. It’s not that exciting to be honest. How about you, though? How’s life been for you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too exciting,” Arzaylea answers. She runs her fingers through her fringe, keeping her hand stiff. Immediately Luke sees the ring on her left hand. “I’ve just been working as a receptionist at my dad’s firm.” She holds out her left hand gently. “It’s been alright.”

“You’re the least subtle person I know,” Luke says before he can stop himself, correcting his mistake by asking in faux-excitement, “Is it Matt?”

“It is _Matthew_ , yes.”

“How did he do it?”

Arzaylea takes a deep breath, sighing as she gets ready to tell what Luke guesses is a mundane story that Arzaylea will over-exaggerate for the sake of being the center of attention. “Well at Christmas last year we had a joint dinner, my folks and his all coming together. We started doing it like that two years before that, I think. He didn’t like splitting the day between the families, and I couldn’t have agreed more. Anyway, during dessert, he made a toast — to me, of course — and talked about how in love he is and how he never thought he could be as happy as he is. It’s sappy, I know, but it sounded so honest coming from him because he truly meant it. Well, he got down on one knee and asked for my hand, and - ”

“That’s really sweet,” Luke interrupts, trying to stop the story from getting too far. With how theatrically Arzaylea speaks, it’s quite possible the entire party could be absorbed into the least exciting flashback the world has ever seen. “In front of the whole family too, what’d they think of it?”

“Well, they were in on it, of course,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully. Luke instantly regrets asking. “My parents had their wedding anniversary back in October, and he sat my dad down and asked for his permission. Mom helped him plan everything for the Christmas dinner, and honestly, have you ever met a girl luckier than me?”

Arzaylea looks at Luke expectantly, like she's waiting on an answer. “I - ”

“Oh, how rude of me,” she clucks at herself, “going on and on about my personal life, when I’ve not heard a peep of yours. How’s the dating life? Are you with any girls? Or boys, I guess. If you’re still... into that sort of thing.”

Her last comment has Luke immediately rising from his seat, refusing to sit through Arzaylea’s _very_ thinly-veiled homophobia. “You know, I promised I wouldn’t be out too long,” he excuses. “I was just stopping by, really, and I promised I’d talk to,” he turns around, looking for a familiar face, feeling more than lucky to see one, “Bryana! I promised her I’d talk to her.”

“Going after your best friend’s ex?” Arzaylea snorts, “I always knew you were a dark horse Luke.”

“Right, yeah. Catch you later, give Matthew my best.”

He walks away from Arzaylea — and her silent observing crowd — downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. he knows that if he fakes his way through a few kind words with Bryana, he could probably call it a night, so he needs to be a bit loose to make this work.

He purposefully stumbles into Bryana from behind, interrupting his conversation with whomever he’s standing across from. He doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty, not even when her cup spills onto the floor, allowing himself this one moment of selfishness.

“I’m so sorry,” Luke apologizes as he makes a disgruntled noise at the impact. He places his hand on her shoulder, very minutely pushing so they head slowly into another room. “Clumsy me…” he trails off, faking shock when his eyes meet hers. “Bryana! Wow, it’s been so long.”

Bryana looks at him, eyes squinted as she tries to identify him. “Luke?” She finally gasps when she recognizes him. “Hi, how are you?”

“I’m doing great, just great,” he answers, adding more force to her shoulder, giving her the hint to walk into the dining room. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” she says, finally giving in and leading them away from her group of friends and out of Arzaylea’s sight. “I am a little curious as to whom you’re running from, though.”

Once they’re safely covered by the wall of the room, Luke gives a light-hearted chuckle - entirely fake — and swats her forearm. “Running from?” he asks, “What are you talking about? I’m just excited to see you.”

It doesn’t convince Bryana, her eyeing him warily as she cocks her eyebrow. “Ashton and I didn’t exactly end amicably, Luke. I know I’m not on your good list right now.”

Luke sighs, not even trying to fake it anymore. Arzaylea’s already out of sight, and all he has to do is last a few more minutes with Bryana, and he'll allow himself to go home. “Seeing as you got me out of a conversation with Arzaylea,” he confesses. “I’d say you’re on the absolute _best_ list right now.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he confirms. “It absolutely is.”

“Then why don’t you tell me about university?” he asks. As an immediate response, Luke rolls his eyes. He's been asked that far too many times since returning home, and it’s the last thing he wants to talk about. “Or not,” Bryana laughs, sensing the malice he has towards the subject, “that’s okay too.”

Luke shakes his head, lips curling down in a frown. He didn’t mean for it to come out as it did. “No, sorry. Everyone keeps asking about uni, but it’s just like high school, boring and not worth wasting time to talk about. If I could go the rest of the summer without hearing that question it’d be great.”

“I understand. There’s only so many times you can tell the same story.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Luke exclaims, smiling, happy that she gets it. “Like, like — okay,” he starts, trying to think of an example but having a hard time. “Like, what do you do for a living?”

Bryana chuckles, “Well I'm getting my degree in English, but in my free time I volunteer at the children's center in the library. Sometimes I restock the shelves, sometimes I read to the kids, so I - ”

“You’ve practically got it down to a script,” he interrupts in astonishment of how completely rounded the topic is.

“Tell it, yeah,” she corrects, “it can get repetitive.”

“I’ll bet…”

“So is Ashton back in town?”

“Here we go.”

They both laugh, Luke not taking her seriously enough to be upset or offended at the comment. When Ashton and Bryana broke it off things were incredibly tense and stilted between the two and their social circles, but time has passed, and the two are on decent terms, so to say. They’re not exactly friends, but they’re no longer angry with each other. After all, Luke _is_ holding a conversation with her.

The two of them joke back and forth for a little while, exchanging stories and sharing laughs about what’s all happened since he'd last seen her the summer after his first year at uni. They mostly talk about how Ashton’s been, but it’s disguised in questions about what Luke’s been up to.

They part after a loud bang sounds from across the room where they’re doing keg stands. The crowd of people around them are cheering, and Luke is far closer to everybody than feels comfortable. It’s a strong signal that it’s time to go, and Bryana agrees, sending him off with a hug, a kiss on the side of his head, and a promise to keep in contact that neither of them believe will be kept.

Luke makes one last round through the three main rooms, but he can’t find Michael anywhere. It’s a bit of relief, he feels. He does want to walk home with him, to get to know him and maybe get a date or at least a promise of meeting again out of it. But he also doesn’t want to feel like he's pulling Michael away from the party, he'd feel guilty about having him leave just for Luke’s seven minute walk home.

It turns out that he didn’t have to worry about pulling him away, not with the eager, “Hey, Luke,” that’s called after him. He turns around and sees Michael racing down the stairs, a confused smile on his face. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah,” Luke answers, putting on a smile, “it’s getting a bit late, and I promised I wouldn’t be out too long.”

“I get it,” Michael responds, face flushed and seemingly full of energy. “Let me just go tell Calum, and I’ll walk you home.”

“That’s alright,” he denies, shaking his head, not wanting Michael to feel obligated to tag along, but secretly hoping that he'll want to anyway. “You shouldn’t have to stop having fun just because I have to get home.”

Michael waves his hand at Luke, a grin dancing across his face. “Don’t be dumb! I’d love to walk you home. Besides, you’re probably a lot more fun than this place.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, I don’t,” he says without room for argument. “I’ll be right back.”

Michael disappears up the stairs, and Luke feels a small excitement. There’s something about the other boy that makes Luke want to talk and go out and do things, to explore and share stories, to experience life. To get amongst it. Just being in his presence makes Luke want to live, and it’d be a cop out to say it’s just Michael's lively personality, but it’s the only way he can explain it.

Behind him, a few people come through the door, loud laughs that don’t have enough empty space to echo hitting his ear too harshly. It’s three girls, and Luke couldn’t be happier to be heading out, knowing that the party is apparently only beginning, filling up every corner of the home with people he's either never met or doesn’t remember.

A body bumps into his, and he's about ready to call it a night completely, feeling like an idiot for standing close to the doorway of a party this massive. The only thing stopping him from actually turning and heading out the door is the sight of Michael coming into view, trying to make his way down the steps.

“Alright, you ready?” Michael asks as he finally makes his way off the stairs and through the few people in between them.

“Yeah,” he replies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t bring anything really.”

“After you then.”

Michael gestures to the door, and Luke practically falls outside, a spike of relief shooting through his body as the door closes, and all of the inside noises are muffled. The first breath of fresh air he takes feels like emerging from underwater. He wants to bottle up the feeling and carry it around with him, loving the way the freedom feels washing over his body and mind.

“So did you have fun tonight?” Michael asks as they step onto the pavement, mimicking Luke’s steps and turning left.

“I wasn’t here very long,” he reveals, partly answering the question, “but, yeah, I guess so. I think the most interesting conversation I had was with you.”

Michael laughs, cheeks lifting as he smiles at the compliment. “Well, I’m glad to be of service,” he jokes, stopping to do a poor curtsy on the pavement, having to rush through it so as not to make Luke stop. “I’d say you owe me, but you’re actually saving me from this annoying girl who couldn’t stop talking about her fiance. She must’ve thought he was important or something, telling that story to strangers like it was a fairytale. I didn’t have the heart to tell her nobody cared.” Luke smiles the very moment he recognizes that Michael's talking about Arzaylea, but doesn’t say anything. Michael must take his silence as discomfort and quickly rushes to add, “Why so quiet over there, and what’s with the smile? Are you holding out on me with some secrets?”

“No,” Luke counters, shaking his head as he lets a few chuckles float around. “I just know the girl you’re talking about, and I can’t stand her. I actually talked to my best friend’s ex for twenty minutes because I’d rather that than her.”

“She was truly the worst person in there.”

“There’s no doubt about that,” he agrees, huffing out a breath as he thinks about how awful Arzaylea really does come off. “She talked down on me about liking boys, trying to pretend he's okay with it, but in that backhanded sort of way — like by commenting on it he was letting the group in on some secret joke.”

Michael makes a tiny noise, cutting it off before it can really go anywhere, and Luke feels his stomach start to sink in, wanting more than anything for there to be a positive reaction. “Oh,” he stumbles, “so, you _are_ into boys, then?”

Luke hesitates to answer, not sure how the conversation is leaning. “Yeah,” he responds, grimacing when he hears how weak it came out. He's quick to add, “That’s okay, right? I mean, I - ”

“No, no, it’s great,” Michael consoles him. Luke can see him shaking his head in his peripheral vision, but refuses to look. “Perfect, even. I am too — into boys, I mean — so… like, there’s no negative vibes from my end. I was just making sure, you know?”

“Making sure?”

“That, you know…” he trails off. He sounds panicked, and Luke lets him off the hook, partly because Michael never meant harm with the question, but mostly because his heart can’t stop racing after Michael's confession of liking boys as well. “Right. So do you go to university?”

A laugh bursts out of Luke; he's unable to control it after hearing the way Michael struggled to sway the question. “That was a horrible segway, but you did it with such confidence that I think I’ll let it slide,” he informs Michael, taking absolute joy in the light giggles that tumble out of his in response. “I do go to uni, yes. Down south. The University of Sydney.”

“I bet I can guess what you’re studying,” Michael wagers, bumping his shoulder into Luke’s.

“Do you, now?”

“It’s either going to be something obvious like Music Management or something completely random like Physics.”

“So which one do you think it is?” he asks, temporarily placing his hand in the small of Michael's back to have him turn right instead of continuing to walk forward.

Michael hums, taking a moment to himself to consider his options. Luke finds him absolutely adorable, and wants to continue having these pointless, silly conversations for the rest of the night. “I’m going to go with… Physics.”

“You were closer with music,” he informs him. “I’m actually getting my BA in Art History.”

“I was close!”

“A little bit, yeah,” Luke agrees, joining in on the giggles and feeling his heart stutter in his chest when their voices make a beautiful harmony of laughter. “So what do you do?” he asks to distract himself from the feeling. “Go to uni?”

“No, no,” she denies. “I nearly failed my final year of school. Further education was not for me.”

“So do you work then?”

“Uh, not exactly, no.”

“Well, now I’m putting my foot in my mouth.”

“No, you’re not,” Michael disagrees, smile stretching a mile long. “I just don’t really have a normal life. I travel across the country and play music at open mic nights and in bars, and I busk sometimes. I just want my music to be heard.”

And that’s news to Luke. He knew that Michael didn’t grow up in Hillvue, would’ve seen him in school, especially if he's close with Calum, but it’s still surprising that, while he's new to town, he's also not even a permanent fixture.

Nowadays it feels like Luke isn’t permanent, either, but Hillvue is his home and even if he moves thousands of miles away, he'll still be like a homing pigeon, finding his way back every once in a while just to see the people and catch up with the news. The fact that Michael is only passing through the city is almost insane to Luke, completely breaking away from what he's used to.

“Oh,” Luke finally finds the bit of brainpower he needs to respond. “You don’t actually live here?”

“I don’t really live anywhere,” Michael shrugs, “I’m staying at Calum’s house right now. I pay rent in the form of pranks.”

Luke suddenly remembers the sight of the two of them sitting pitifully next to each other in the November heat , tying up balloons. “Oh, yeah?” he recollects. “What were those balloons for by the way? Because I know you weren’t trying to make them float.”

“We wanted to shove them into Cal’s ex’s car,” he confesses, a smirk displayed proudly on his lips. “He loves things neat and perfect, and we figured it’d be a nice surprise for him.”

“Was it?”

Michael chuckles, and Luke finds himself joining in again despite not knowing the motivation behind them. Something about being in Michael's presence makes everything he does contagious. “We couldn’t get his car unlocked, to be honest with you. The whole thing was a failure.”

“You’re absolutely incredible to me.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Princess,” he teases, winking at Luke as they continue walking the path. They’ve not even a minute left on their walk, and Luke wants to cherish it. “Oh, I see your house coming up,” Michael points out. “Well, it’s either your place, or somebody has cloned your car. For what reasons, I’m not sure, but they must be curious as to what happens when you own a car that dirty. They’re probably doing scientific experiments on it, that poor thing - ”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Luke cuts off, not sure he can take anymore of the joke without choking on his laughter and making a scene.

“I don’t actually,” Michael fights, “It’s a true problem, I’ll be honest with you.”

They walk past the car, Michael jokingly blowing a kiss to it, which makes Luke laugh even harder. It’s like an endless circle with him, a neverending moment of pure elation that has him not wanting to go home. If he could, he'd spend the rest of the summer walking up the path to his doorway, basking in the atmosphere that’s settled weightlessly around them.

“Thank you for walking me home,” Luke whispers as they get up to the doorway.

“It’s no problem, really. Thank you for letting me,” Michael tells him, using his hand to pull them to a stop, hand light as a feather on his hip. “I don’t know why, but I just feel really drawn to you.”

The feeling is mutual, he wants to say, but he can’t, too absorbed in the moment, in the way Michael is looking at him, body swaying like he wants to do something. It almost seems like he wants to kiss him, but before Luke can find out, a loud _beep_ trills between them, putting space between them.

Michael smiles apologetically, but it’s tense, and Luke has never related to anything more. “It’s… an alarm,” he informs as he checks the watch he has sitting on his wrist. He's shaking his head, a sigh falling out. “It's when Calum wanted to leave the party, and if I'm not there, I can’t catch a ride back with him. I’d better go.”

“Right, right,” he swallows, can feel a blush on his face because he's almost positive that they were about to share a kiss, but the moment had to be ruined. “You’re not gonna want to miss that ride.”

“Can I see you soon?”

“Yeah, of course,” Luke confirms eagerly. “If you stick around town for a little while, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of each other.”

“I’ll be here all summer.”

Luke doesn’t get a chance to say anything in reply because Michael's leaning in and kissing his cheek before turning around and sauntering down the path, heading back towards the party. he doesn’t know how Michael is so grounded, though, because all he can do is float inside, still high off of the best night he's had all summer.

He's suddenly _really_ happy he left the house this evening.

☀

One thing that Luke misses most about being home is getting to sit with his parents, to just talk with them about anything and everything. At university he doesn’t go out too much, and when he does, the conversation is shallow - more distanced and unimportant. His parents, though, they know him like the back of their hands, so they can have deeper talks, and when they don’t, even their more simple and lighthearted talks are filled with laughter and comfort — something he's missed dearly.

When he was in high school, his family all used to have a Monday night dinner. Sometimes they invited Ashton’s family along, but more often than not, it was just the five of them — Luke, his parents, and Ben and Jack, his older brothers, sharing stories of their weeks and laughing at inside jokes. Luke couldn’t wish for a better relationship with his parents. It’s why he doesn’t mind being at home so often. It definitely can get monotonous, sometimes dull, and there are times when he just wants Ashton to come home so he can do something other than melt into the floral chair in the living room. Despite that, he does love being with his parents, being in their company so often.

They reinstated the Monday night dinner tonight, going to a steakhouse on their side of town. Andy thought it’d be fun to enjoy a nice dinner together as a family, Luke privately adding on that it’s also a great opportunity to reveal his change in his major to his parents.

He's terrified, if he's being honest with himself. Realistically, he knows his parents aren’t going to disown him just because of his major, but he's not excited for their reaction when they find out that he not only changed his major from something he could make money off of to something that will have him struggling a bit at first, but also that he made the switch two and a half years ago.

“I have to tell you, Luke,” Andy says casually as they take their seats at the table, the hostess heading back to her station. “It’s so wonderful having you back at home. Your mom and I have been saying that the house’s been too quiet these past few months.”  

Liz hums in agreement. “And having you helping out around the house is so lovely as well.”

“I love being back,”  Luke grins at his parents, going over in his head how to approach the subject. “I enjoy my degree, but I miss you both everyday.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Liz coos, smiling at him from across the table. “You know it’s the same for us. Don’t make your poor mom cry in such a nice place.”

Luke laughs as his mom waves her hands in front of her face to stop any tears that are coming out. “I could’ve sneezed, and you would’ve started crying, Mum.”

“Well, I’ve never - ”

“He's right, dear,” Andy agrees, an amused tilt to his smile.

“I know he is,” Liz replies, disgruntled, “but I don’t appreciate being called out about it.”

They all laugh together, and Luke feels so incredibly thankful for the fact that he can sit here and laugh with his parents, that they tell jokes and just enjoy each other’s company. He knows that Ava doesn’t talk to her mom anymore, and that a few kids in his building have run away to Sydney to get away from their family. He's glad that he's not ever felt like doing that, like hiding away and ignoring his parents. He's happy that they’re still a part of his support system and that days like today aren’t a rare occurrence, that they can do this often and feel comfortable in each other’s presence.

That’s another thing that makes the idea of telling his parents about his change in major so terrifying — he doesn’t want to break their trust and have their easy conversation become stilted and fake. But he knows he has to, knows that he can’t go into his last year of university with them still thinking it’s for a law degree. The last thing he wants to do is leave for school once again with this lie haunting his.

So yes, he's aware that he has to tell them, but they’re in a public place. It’s a nice steakhouse, and they’re surrounded by many families and people on dates. It’s not exactly the greatest place to reveal his two and a half year lie to them. The last thing he wants to do is make a scene.

But this is something he really needs to do.

“So, there’s something I need to talk to you both about,” Luke proclaims, sitting up straight and shaking his head to make his hair fall away from his forehead.

“Of course, son,” his dad smiles, “we’re here to listen.”

Sometimes he wishes his parents weren’t so kind and open with him, that way he wouldn’t be afraid of telling them. Hell, if his parents had been just a bit more strict with them growing up, he could put this down as an act of rebellion instead of hiding behind his fear.

“I’m about to graduate,” he starts, trying his hardest not to give into temptation and swallow his tongue, “and I just wanted to tell you - ”

“Liz? Andy? Is that you?”

Luke looks up as a light, tender voice interrupts his confession. A short, blonde woman is smiling excitedly at the table, making her way over with a boy following closely behind. He feels like he's being thrown back to year twelve when Ashton’s family would attend dinners with Luke’s every few weeks. Seeing Anne Marie Irwin and her son, Harry, approaching them at a nice, sit down restaurant like this one comes with a beautiful nostalgic feeling that completely erases any anxious feelings from his head.

“Anne Marie, oh my goodness! How are you?”

Ashton’s mom, Anne Marie, smiles at Liz’s excitement. She always did share the same friendly spirit as her son. “I’m fantastic, actually,” she answers. “I’m just out to dinner with Harry here.” She puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder shaking it gently as she insists for him to, “Say hi, sweetheart.”

“Hello, Liz,” he grins, looking as charming as an eleven year old can. “Andy.”  

They all share greetings, Luke's dad grinning pleasantly. “How are you, Harry?” Harry doesn’t answer, so Andy turns back to Anne-Marie. “How are the kids?”

“They're alright,” she answers, grin slowly sneaking onto her face as she speaks of her family. “I hear this is the beginning of the empty-nest feeling.”

“Bless your heart,” Liz coos, her hand floating easily over her heart. “It never gets easier, does it?”

A strong reason as to why Luke has been able to stay friends with Ashton for so long is because of how friendly their families are together. He's not always had that blessing, some families not always being the most welcoming. He remembers a friend of his in primary school stopping their friendship out of nowhere - his mom hadn’t gotten along with Liz, and while Liz had no problem setting her differences aside for Luke’s friendships, the other mom wasn’t as open to it.

The Irwin and the Hemmings families get along like vegemite and toast.

“Oh, Luke,” Anne Marie jumps, eyes lighting up brightly as she remembers something she must’ve been meaning to say. “My Ashton should be getting home this week. Saturday, if everything goes smoothly at work.”

Luke nods, smiling politely, hoping he looks appreciative despite having already been aware of this information. “We already have plans to meet up Saturday and watch movies.”

Anne Marie's face melts, a sad-happy smile carving itself onto her face as she holds her own cheek in her hand, eyeing Luke fondly. “I do love the summer,” she sighs. “Makes it feel like ten years ago with you boys spending every moment together.”

Harry jumps forward, probably seeing that Anne Marie is moments away from crying, to tell her, “Dinner’s waiting, mom.”

“Right, right,” she waves off, sniffling up the tears that haven’t been formed yet. “Well, it was delightful running into you. Let’s get together again soon.” It was said with such finality, no sign of the empty promises that goodbyes like that usually entail.

Liz stands up and pulls Anne Marie into a hug. It’s sweet, and Luke loves that, despite not seeing each other often, they’re still so kind to each other. “At the end of the summer we’re throwing a going away barbeque for our Luke,” she tells Anne Marie as she pulls away. “You’re more than welcome to come. Harry and Lauren too, of course. We’d be honored to have you.”

“We’ll definitely be there.”

“Have a great night, loves!”

“You too.”

They head off, walking together towards the back of the restaurant where Luke can see Lauren, Ashton’s sister, waiting for them both. The conversation, though short, made a blanket of quiet fall over the table, all three of them seemingly deep in thought, maybe remembering when the families were inseparable, maybe thinking of how they ought to get close again.

The silence is broken after a minute or two by Andy clearing his throat. “That was lovely, seeing them,” he says. “I feel like we never talk to the Irwin’s anymore.” Luke and his mom nod in agreement, neither having much to say. It gives his dad enough time to remember where they left off before Anne Marie and Harry’s appearance. “Oh, I’m sorry, you were talking about something. What was it again? Something about university, I believe?”

“Oh, right,” Luke inwardly flinches. He can’t believe he forgot that he was about to tell his biggest secret. “Uh, well.” All of the confidence, though false, that he'd built up earlier has completely disappeared, so he lies, “I got a letter from the administration yesterday and found out that our dorm this year is going to be on the bottom level, which means a smaller room. Is it alright if I leave a few of my belongings here with you? Just so I’m not too cramped back in Sydney.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Liz hums. “Of course you can. Thank you for asking, though.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s going to make the drive back a lot easier too, I bet,” his dad adds.

“I hope so.” He smiles at them, hoping he looks thankful for their kindness, but all he can worry about is whether or not they’ll forget about this by the end of the summer so that he doesn’t actually have to leave any of his belongings behind. “Now, who else is looking at the salad bar with hungry eyes?”

His parents laugh and gesture for him to go off. He stands from the table and heads over, thankful to have the distance for a second, just so he can get his mind off of the guilt. He's ashamed of himself for coming so close to finally getting this off of his chest, but backing out of it, all because he was interrupted.

He needs to tell them soon. He has to find the courage to stand up for himself, to just tell the truth, regardless of his parents’ possible disappointment, or else he'll end up applying to law firms with an art history degree, confusing his mom as much as the firms themselves —  he did graduate sixth in his class after all.

And yet, that somehow sounds better than telling them about his major.

☀

Being back home has been an adventure - if adventure means occasionally running errands and spending the rest of the time waiting to be given tasks.

So, it hasn’t been an adventure at all. There are times when Luke regrets not staying back in Sydney, if just so he'd have things that he _can_ do. Waiting for Ashton to return home isn’t taking up any time, and there’s really not much else going on.

The day before, his dad needed a new pack of batteries from the kitchen, and Luke all but raced out of the room to grab them. It was the most exciting minute of the day, and if he has to endure another day as boring that one, he may just tear his hair out.

He's been watching the kitchen, as lame as that is. He's been monitoring the fridge, freezer, and all of the cupboards just hoping that they’d run out of something, if only so he could run to the shop for ten minutes and add some excitement to his day.

The lucky day came after his mom had made brownies, using the last of the milk, meaning, tragically, there was none to drink while they ate their brownies for dessert. Luke volunteered to run down the street to the store.

The thrill he got from that statement was almost sickening.

For big shopping trips, they usually run to Wesfarmers, but it’s on the other side of town, and Luke really doesn’t want to take too much time with his parents waiting at home. Morrison’s is just a few blocks over, and they don’t overcharge like many of the service stations he passes on the way.

It’s on the way down the baking aisle that Luke sees a familiar face. “Michael,” he grins, watching as Michael stops walking and turns around, “hey.”  

“Oh,” he says when he notices who's addressing him, “Hi, Luke.”

“How’ve you been?” Luke can’t help but cringe at how stilted the conversation is, laced with an almost awkward aura surrounding them. It’s how it usually is between them, he reminds himself, knowing that things should pick up soon, that conversation will make itself happen.

“Uh, I’ve been good,” Michael answers, hands tightening around the packaging in his hand as he lifts them, adding, “trying to keep things interesting while I’m here.”

Looking closer Luke can just barely make out what he's holding and - “I can tell,” he states. “Is that… what is it? Glue?”

“Yeah,” Michael exclaims, grinning at the recognition of his purchase. “Super glue.”

“And gummy worms?”

“ _Sour_ gummy worms.”

Luke laughs, can’t help it when Michael is the most excitable, yet completely random person he’s ever met. “Are they part of the same scheme or just for a snack?”

“Both!” Michael beams as he looks down fondly at the items in his hand. “I’m bound to get hungry as I’m super gluing gummy worms.”

“I was going to ask,” Luke counters, “but I think I’d rather not.”

Michael giggles, the light, airy noise causing stuttering in Luke’s chest. “It’s probably for the best,” he agrees. “If I get in trouble, I can't have you having any information against me. You need, like, possible d- ”

“Plausible deniability,” he interrupts, knowing immediately what Michael was trying to say and that he was saying it wrong.

“Fancy jacket, fancy words. You keep on surprising me.”

Luke blushes, the heat flooding onto his face at the smirk playing on Michael's lips. “I - ”

He trails off, not knowing how to reply to that, not wanting to say the wrong thing and ruin the moment. With the joy on Michael's face and the shimmer in his eye, Luke’s actually loving the teasing. He'd put up with all the playful humiliation in the world if it meant hearing Michael's bubbly laugh and seeing his mesmerizing smile.

He's not even surprised to hear himself say that — isn’t embarrassed either. It’s refreshing, this back and forth he's always got going on with Michael. Since the first time they met, it’s been a constant pleasant mocking of each other, one right after another, and Luke can’t get enough of it, adoring the happiness he feels being the one to put that look on Michael's face.

It’s addicting.

“So I’m playing at O’Neill’s Friday night,” Michael brings up, grinning hopefully but still managing to look almost shy in that respect.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, looking more relaxed and faux nonchalant with every word he speaks. “It’s just an open mic night. Like, it’s nothing impressive, but - ”

Luke waves him off, interrupting with wide eyes, “No, it’s still performing. It sounds exciting. Good luck.”

“Right, well,” Michael nods. he pulls the corner of his lip into his mouth before taking a big breath as if preparing himself. “It’s just at O’Neill’s, you know, on Paul’s Row? Anyway, I’m only going on for two songs, so I’ll just be hanging out in the pub for a while. If you, like, wanted to join me, you know, like. Like, if you wanted to come see the show and maybe get something to drink. I wouldn’t, like, I wouldn’t _mind_.”

“I could see about that, maybe,” Luke responds. he's shocked at his ability to actually answer. He's never seen Michael look nervous, never heard him ramble like that. “I don’t think I have any plans or anything, but I’ll check and maybe see you there?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Michael agrees. “Don’t feel like you have to though - ”

“No, no. I’m excited for you,” he insists, not wanting Michael to feel like he didn’t absolutely love the invitation. He doesn’t want there to be any confusion between them. And he definitely wants to go. “I want to come see you play. I have to see if you’re as good as I think you are.”

Michael smiles, nodding along with every word Luke says. “I hope to see you on Friday, then.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll see you Friday.”

Luke smiles at Michael who grins back, both of them standing in the baking aisle with nothing left to say, but Luke doesn’t want to end the conversation. There’s a piece of him that never wants to finish talking with the boy in front of him, wants to live in the banter forever.

“Anyway, I should probably,” Michael talks first, gesturing toward the front of the store with the items in his hand, “go buy these.”

“Right,” Luke agrees. “Have things to do, gummy worms to super glue.”

“Right,” Michael mocks. “I’ll see you.”

“I - ” Michael walks off before Luke can finish his goodbye, saying measly “see you,” to his retreating back. It should feel awkward, standing in the middle of the aisle, still smiling from the conversation that just ended with an abrupt and incomplete goodbye.

It should feel awkward.

But it doesn’t. It feels wonderful, and Luke’s counting the minutes until he sees Michael next.  

☀

There’s a constant thrum of nervous energy running through Luke Friday night as he gets ready to leave for Michael's open mic event. It’s not strong enough to have him feeling too sick to go, but it does have him on his feet, nearly burning a hole in the carpet with his pacing. He's buzzing, excitement and anxiety bubbling just under his skin, and time isn’t passing quickly enough.

He has trouble choosing an outfit. he knows that it’s not that big of a deal, that an outfit couldn’t possibly change too much in the scheme of things, he probably won’t even see Michael long enough to warrant his stress. Michael probably won’t even notice the outfit. They’ll probably run into each other after Michael's set, exchange some words, and then Luke will drive home wondering why he was so nervous for something so minor. But just on the off chance that he _does_ not, Luke doesn’t want to show up in a band shirt of something Michael doesn’t like.

It’s as he's deciding to just throw on the first thing he finds, that Liz knocks on his door, calling him down for dinner. Luke declines politely, too nervous to even think about eating. That decision doesn’t last long, though, realizing that he'll be hungry eventually during the night and eating his dad’s spag bol will cost significantly less than buying the greasy pub food.

Even if chicken wings do sound amazing right now…

There’s a place setting for him when he gets down to the table. His parents knew he'd come down. They give him knowing eyes as he takes a seat, his dad asking if he has a date. He denies it, not sounding convincing at all if the way his mom grins down at her plate is any sign.

Technically though, he wasn’t lying. It’s not a date, they aren’t even hanging out. Luke’s probably only going to be there for about a half an hour - just enough time to see Michael perform, to have a conversation, and to have a drink as he tries not to feel overwhelmed with just how attracted he is to the other man.

God, does he wish it was a date, though.

He can feel the excitement flowing as he drives to the pub. That, along with his nerves, make for an awfully back and forth car ride. He can’t decide whether he wants to go, see Michael's beautiful face and hear his beautiful voice but be unnerved the entire time, or avoid all the confliction and discomfort but miss out on witnessing Michael smile the way he does when he sees Luke.

He lets his heart make the decision for him and only turns back around once before changing his mind and heading straight for the pub. He's ran into Michael plenty and never felt this level of unease about it. Then again, he's never been directly asked to hang out.

It’s all so confusing if he's honest. In all twenty-one of his years, he's never felt so mixed up about something so small. He didn’t even stress this much switching his major. He's just got to move on. He's made up his mind, he wants to see Michael sing.

And now he's sitting here.

It’s a bit awkward, he won’t lie. The pub isn’t crazy full, but there are enough people for him to feel crowded. He's lucky he got a seat at the bar, but there are a ton of people in large groups, choosing to stand and wait for tables, so being alone may come in handy this time around.

His drink comes quickly, the bartender handing off the yellow concoction with a smile before leaving Luke to his own devices.

There’s a man on the makeshift stage at the front of the bar. He has short black hair and a deep voice. He’s singing an old Sinatra song. He sounds good, the crowd clearly enjoys it, but Luke can’t get into it, too busy searching the room for familiar sunshine-colored hair. He can’t seem to find him, though, too many bodies in every direction.

He can’t find Michael, but he does meet eyes with a man across the bar. He’s been staring at Luke for a minute by the time he notices, can see his face light up when he looks his way. It clearly isn’t whom he wanted to find and the disappointment settles heavily in his gut. It only makes matters worse when he stands up and makes his way over.

“Hey, there,” the man greets as he manages to slide closer to Luke than necessary, letting an open seat stay vacant as he leans into his space.

Luke can feel his lips tightening, his facial features arranging themselves to show his discomfort. “Oh,” he murmurs, “hello.”

“You look lonely,” he says, grin in place and looking like the last person Luke would ever want to fill a void in any aspect of his life. “I thought you could use some company.”

“I’m actually not that alone.”

He laughs, a smirk forming on his face as though he was waiting for that response. “Not anymore,” he drawls, “I came over here, didn’t I?” He reaches his hand out and places it on Luke’s forearm.

“Yes,” he answers, pulling his arm away from the man and letting the tension bleed into his tone. “Yes, you did.”

Luke really doesn’t have a preference on the people he's interested in. Boys, girls, people of no gender, people who don’t know, he generally couldn’t care less as long as there’s a strong connection between the two of them. But times like these, times when people try to force a connection, try to convince him that he's feeling things that he really, truly isn’t — well, that’s what he's _not_ interested in.

He's been with a few men in his life, but every single one of them has been respectful and known that he was being honest when he said he was interested, had known that “playing hard to get” wasn’t something he was down to do. He'd never understood why people would lie about their feelings, why they wouldn’t be up front in saying “I like you.”

So now that this man is here, trying to squeeze his way into his space, grinning like he thinks he knows what Luke wants, he's feeling more than just uncomfortable.

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Do you have a name, blue-eyes?”

“Mhm,” Luke hums, trying to turn the other way, as he speaks, “that I do.”

The man laughs, moving his hand to hold Luke’s knee in place, stopping him from turning in the other direction. Luke tries to meet the eyes of the bartender, hoping for some help to get this man away from him, but nobody is looking his way. “Well can I know it?”

“I’m - ”

“There you are, man!” Like a golden beacon on a dark windy night, a raspy voice interrupts Luke and pulls his attention away from the man that’s steadily been leaning in closer. “What’re you doing back here? We’ve been waiting for you up front.”

It’s Calum. He has a beer in his hand and a wild look in his eye that gives away that he's here to save Luke from the disaster of a situation he's gotten himself into. He plays along, smiling, “I didn’t know you were here. I thought I’d wait by the bar.”

“That’s no problem,” Calum waves off, his smile a bit manic as he steps in between Luke and the man. The whole conversation feels scripted, completely unnatural, as they both try to distance him from this man. “We’ll just take your drink and your skinny ass over to the table, and - ”

“ _Hello_.”

Luke cringes at the way the man barges his way back in the conversation, not letting the two boys ignore him. He tries pushing Calum aside, but he isn’t having it, standing his ground and not taking his eyes off of Luke as he responds, “Who’s your friend, man?”

“He’s not - ”

“He’s not a friend?” Calum’s eyes squint at his words, forehead creasing as he continues, “Good, then he can be leaving.”

Calum grabs Luke’s drink from the table and starts walking away. Luke follows closely behind, not allowing himself to be pulled back into the dark pit that was conversation with a stranger.

Something that Luke remembers very clearly from school is that Calum was always so loud. You could always hear his voice rising above everyone else’s, his laugh echoing in the cafeteria. They weren’t friends, and Calum probably doesn’t remember much about Luke, but he knows a hell of a lot about Calum, only because without even trying, he pushed himself into everybody’s heads. Spoke loudly and was unapologetically himself.

It’s very clear to see that he's still true to that nature. The two of them make their way through the crowd, and whereas Luke would usually try his hardest to squeeze through, Calum makes his presence known and a path clears itself for them. Anybody that stays in their way, he moves with a very pointed shove of his shoulders.

When they get through the thicker mass of the crowd and more towards the stage and tables, he can spot where Michael is sitting, blonde hair now a dull red.

It’s a shock, at first, to see the sudden change, but Luke can’t deny it looks really fucking great.

Calum leads them over, placing their drinks on the table. Luke’s is placed in front of a set across from Michael rather than next to him, which is disheartening, but he doesn’t want to seem down or moody about it, especially with Calum excitedly announcing their arrival. “Look who I found at the bar!”

“Luke!” Michael lights up, his voice making a blush rise to Luke’s cheeks as it draws in the attention of a few surrounding people. “Hey, I’m glad you made it.”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers, smiling crookedly just at the happy look on Michael's face. This is why he came out tonight. Because he's addicted to the feeling he gets when Michael smiles. “Of course I did. Couldn’t miss an opportunity - ” he realizes halfway through speaking that he's about to blatantly out himself and his silly little crush, he slows down speaking to say something that not only will save him but also hopefully sound reasonably normal. “To visit a pub…”

Unsuccessful.

“Yeah,” Calum snorts as he takes a drink of his beer, sliding into the empty seat next to Michael, “because it’s such a great pub.”

Michael pouts, and Luke melts. “Hey,” he protests. “I love this place.”

“That’s because they keep letting you come back. If you get too drunk, like that night at Yate’s, then you might find yourself hating it.”

“That bouncer was way out of line, Calum.”

“You bit him!”

Calum’s words seem to set Michael off, and soon, the two of them are going at it, biting out harsh words that sound angry, but the tilt to their lips convince Luke that they’re only playing around. Luke steps around Calum to take the seat across from Michael, getting comfortable because he thinks they’re going to take a minute to calm down.

There’s a moment when the bickering stops that Calum shoves at Michael, and Michael threatens to fall out of his chair. Calum catches him with a strong hand on his wrist and pulls him forward. They’re staring at each other in shock for a moment before they both start giggling, and Luke bitterly thinks it looks a bit intimate.

He knows that it’s too soon for him to feel like Michael's his, but there’s something about the boy that just draws him in, makes him want to stay by his side and breathe him in. “When do you sing?” he asks instead of saying what’s really on his mind.

Michael shrugs, answering, “Well it’s an open mic night, and you know how those turn out.” he begins to laugh, Calum joining in, but Luke doesn’t get the joke.

“Uh,” he mumbles, clearing his throat before adding, “Not really, actually. I’ve never, really - ”

Growing up, Luke was never very much into music. He could enjoy songs on the radio, and even had a small crush on Madonna for a solid chunk of his time in sixth grade, had her posters hanging on his bedroom walls. Other than a mild appreciation for a good song, and a major appreciation for a beautiful face, he never delved too deeply into the world of music.

He was always much more into television shows and movies. He could quote every word to any cheesy rom-com that plays, and doesn't even feel a lick of shame for it. He's always preferred meaningful dialogue and strong reactive facial expressions to a decent beat.

Back in secondary school, Ashton used to come over every weekend and the two of them would catch up on the week’s new episodes that they missed due to the “no TV during the week” rule their parents all agreed on. They never paid attention to the musical guests, sweeping them under the rug in favor of watching actors laugh on late night talk shows. Ashton used to fantasize of being the one getting interviewed, answering the questions like they were for him, but Luke, well he just liked seeing these people that he didn’t know. He liked getting to know a character, learning their likes and dislikes and feeling the emotions they were feeling, only to have them be somebody completely different a week later in a different movie.

He liked music just fine, likes it now as well, but it’s always been, in the best of words, background noise.

After he realized what art did to him, how it made him feel, how it changed his perspective, it took over. He cared a little less about new movies and his favorite shows with Ashton, but cared more about how a work of art could change everything.

He imagines that’s how Michael feels with his music.

Michael doesn’t seem to catch onto the fact that Luke’s having a conversation with himself as he justifies his love for movies over music. “Oh, really?” he asks. “So this is your first one?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s so cool!” he exclaims. “I’m glad you were willing to come out and see me then.” he's got a bright smile taking over face, and Luke feels his heartbeat stutter. Michael goes on to explain, “Basically, with an open mic night, you can sing whenever the mic is open, hence the name, but it’s really hard fighting some of these artists for the chance.”

“Don’t lie, Michael,” Calum interrupts, looking at Luke as he continues, “he'll do anything to get on stage, man. If he throws some punches tonight, it won’t be a surprise.”

Michael starts giggling, and like always, the airy quality to it lifts Luke about ten feet off the ground. “Oh my god, I’m not going to punch anybody.” Calum gives a look of disbelief at Michael's words, and Luke finds himself laughing along. “I will admit that I’ve elbowed a few faces, and bit a security guard, but I won’t actually punch anybody.”

“You punched somebody last week at The Vibe,” Calum argues.

“Okay, well,” Michael raises his finger in his face, and Luke full on cackles at the sight it makes. Michael looks insistent in wanting to justify himself. “We were trying to get near the stage to see the band. Moshing is different from fighting, and I refuse to listen to you over-exaggerate while Luke’s here.” he turns towards Luke and grins again, “Speaking of, how are you, Princess? Did you find the place alright?”

He finds himself mimicking Michael's grin, contagious thing that it is. “I found it just fine. Lived here for twenty-one years.”  

“That’s right,” Michael nods. “ _I’m_ the outsider. Keep forgetting. Feels like I’ve known this prick my entire life, unfortunately.”

Calum _tsks_ , shaking his head and paying attention to his fingernails. “You’re getting really brave considering I’m your ride home,” he pauses for a moment to consider something before adding, “and your home, technically, you couchsurfer. “

Ashton gets home tomorrow, Luke suddenly remembers, upon seeing the grins Michael and Calum exchange. There’s a familiarity there, an air of comfort that he longs for, something he's missing when his best friend isn’t around.

This is different, though. He's not jealous, wanting Ashton around because he feels left out when he's near friends as close as Michael and Calum. This isn’t that at all. This is Luke, looking at the duo and realizing how well they could all fit together. This is him seeing things that are missing from his and Ashton’s friendship.

This is him almost feeling like he belongs with them.

But that’s a terrifying thought to have, he notes when he realizes that, even though he went to school with Calum and has seen Michael a few times, this is technically the first time they’re hanging out. He's barely been at the table for five minutes, and he already can see them filling in the spaces in his life.

It’s terrifying.

And that’s why it’s a relief when the person on stage stops singing, receiving some cheers from the back of the pub. Michael stands up, grabbing a guitar that Luke hadn’t noticed leaning against the opposite side of their table. he doesn’t say anything before walking off, the sound of Calum’s whooping and hollering following him. Luke joins in, and he's glad he did when Michael turns around smiling like sun, a thousand stars dancing in his eyes.

“I’ve got two songs prepared for you tonight,” he tells the crowd, eyes glossing over the lot of them before settling at the table he just vacated. “I hope you enjoy them.”

Michael pulls the stool behind him forward to the microphone and relaxes into the seat. He clears his throat, and the motions take some time, causing the people at the back of the pub to start talking. He begins strumming the opening chords to the song, and other than the few tables at the front, there’s not much attention being paid to Michael, and Luke himself is feeling nervous, just for the fact that in a matter of a few seconds, he lost the attention of the crowd.

But then he starts singing.

Luke doesn’t know if the crowd stops talking or if he just can’t hear them because he's so drawn into the smooth sound of Michael's voice floating in the air. It’s so effortless how he slips away from his confidently sarcastic persona into this gentle and beautiful light, shining his way into everybody’s space just with the sound of his voice and a few chords on his guitar.

He was meant to be onstage, Luke can see. He's so comfortable up there, sharing his music with so many people he doesn’t know, but he's clearly making a connection somewhere. Everybody in the room is completely pulled into the show, watching on with invested attention, while Michael is serenading the room.

His eyes close, and he melts into the chorus for the second time, repeating the lyrics with enough emotion to connect himself to the purpose, but not so much as to disconnect from the audience. It’s brilliant, and probably something that takes a while to learn but comes naturally to him.

There’s nothing about this man that doesn’t absolutely enchant Luke, he's sure.

As he fades out, away from his personal song, a familiar riff starts playing and everyone in the pub seems to break out of the magnetic pull that Michael captured them into, but they don’t draw their attention away. They’re still attentive to the performance, but now it’s a loose, not as hyper-focused interest.

The chords he's playing sound choppy now, but it works with the beat. Michael's entire face opens up, less intense, less encaptured into the music, as he smiles a goofy grin and begins singing.

For a moment it's unfamiliar, but then Luke gets past the upbeat and happy tempo to a usually slower song, and recognizes the hit for what it is.

Luke will be the first to admit that even he's over the song, it having played far too often over the course of forever, but it’s not the original arrangement of the song, and he finds himself bopping along to the sound, enjoying being one with the music.

When the chorus comes up, suddenly the entire pub is signing along, and Luke can't help but laugh. Clearly, everyone is loving it, and if his eyes are right, Michael flushes at the positive reaction.

He's never been to a concert, but he imagines this is what it must feel like. One minute you’re getting lost in the beautiful sound of a song so personal, sang so beautifully, and the next you’re giggling as the artist sings “ _I bless the rains down in Africa_ ” with an entire audience joining in.

The crowd is having a great time, and Michael’s acting like it’s just another Friday night. It’s impressive, and he's so happy to be a part of the magic that’s holding the pub captive. It feels less like an open mic night and more like this is his show, that the others were just here to warm everyone up for the radiance that is Michael's performance.

Luke finds himself leaning into Calum’s space, neither of them taking their eyes away from Michael owning the stage. “He's so good.”

“Well no shit, man,” Calum agrees, nudging their shoulders together. “He's only been doing this for eight years.”

He tries to do the math in his head, but he can’t come up with any answer that makes sense with his current age. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-three, I believe,” Calum answers. “Left home when he was fifteen.”

Luke doesn’t know what to focus on first, but the fact that he's two years older than Luke himself is something he wasn’t aware of. It doesn’t change much, but the man is so much more confident in himself, so much more independent. It definitely comes as a shock, but Michael's probably miles ahead of his age if only because he _did_ leave home so young. “What happened?”

Calum shugs, not taking his eyes off of Michael even though Luke’s turned his body, interested in the details of Michael's story. “I’m not sure. He doesn’t talk about his home life very much.”

That’s not very hard to believe, and Luke suddenly feels like he's intruding on something he isn’t supposed to be aware of. “I feel really guilty talking about it. That’s weird, right?”

“Not at all. You respect him, that’s sweet.”

Calum still hasn’t looked at him, which would usually bug him, but he's paying close attention to Michael, which is something he can’t be mad about considering he himself is being drawn back into the performance.

Michael finishes his song and is met with an entire pub full of people cheering. Nobody races up to the stage as he makes his way off, too afraid to follow up such a spectacular performance (Luke doesn’t blame them at all).

As he makes his way back to the table, Luke can see that Michael's completely flushed, hair sticking up more than before, but instead of looking worn down, there’s an energy within him. He looks like a fantasy to Luke, so confident, a light sheen of sweat showing, his smile shining just like the star he proved himself to be.

Luke joins in with Calum’s cheering as Michael approaches the table. He doesn’t look even the slightest bit embarrassed by it, looking happy to come back to his small fan club. He sets his guitar back down where he'd grabbed it from, not sitting down yet, and looks straight to Luke. “So, what’d you think?”

“That was amazing, oh my god,” Luke gushes, completely honest with his answer. “I wasn’t expecting you to absolutely own it like that.”

“Thanks,” Michael returns, smiling even wider, which Luke wasn’t sure was possible. “I’m really glad you came.”

“Me too.”

Michael's looking past Luke, more towards the crowd behind him. He has a thoughtful look in his eyes before looking back down and asking, “Do you want to go to the bar with me? Could drink the whole place bare, I’m so thirsty.”

Luke smiles, blushing slightly as he knows that it’s more than just for a drink. There’s a half-full bottle of water sitting in front of him, for goodness sake. “Of course, yeah.”

“Get it.”

“Would you hush,” Michael growls at Calum who’s smirking at the two of them. He’s caught onto what Michael did, and has the same idea as Luke. Michael places his hand on Luke’s lower back as he stands and guides the two of them towards the bar. “Imbeciles,” he complains, “the both of them.”

“I think they’re sweet,” Luke observes, trying to distract himself from the number of people trying to get in contact with Michael, patting his shoulder, back, and even shouting at him. “It’s nice that you have a support system.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, ignoring the crowd of people as well, putting all his attention on Luke, “He’s been around since I got to Tamworth. I met Calum at a pub on day one and now I crash with him and spend all my freetime making him want to tear his hair out.”

“He cares about you a lot, supports your music.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty great.” They get to the bar, and Michael actually does order a drink, another bottle of water, but Luke doesn’t want to bring it up, wants to be here, away from the everyone as he spends time talking to this magnanimous man. “What about you?”

He's caught off guard by the question, not sure where they last left off. “What _about_ me?”

“You have a support system?” Michael asks, leaning his right arm on the bar as he inches into Luke’s space. “Close friends that just make life seem so easy?”

“Back at school, no,” he tells Michael. “My roommate is my closest friend there, but I don’t really even consider him that close.” Alex is great, but other than the two of them sharing a major and some personal space, they don’t have much in common, don’t talk much more than the occasional party. University isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. “Ashton, though, he's my best friend. Been around all my life, and is the only person I really keep up to date with.”

“He still live around here?”

“No, he's up north for university, but he comes back tomorrow morning. We’ve got standing plans for a sleepover with our old favorite films.”

“That’s so nice.”

A bottle of water gets handed to Michael, and when he goes to grab his money, the bartender waves him off, pointing down to where a few people are standing. One of them is the man from earlier that tried to get too personal with Luke. The lot of them are grinning, probably hoping for Michael to go talk to them, but his eyes don’t even linger in their direction.

He reaches down behind the bar and grabs one of the curly straws for the fruity drinks and puts it into his uncapped bottle. He bows his head to take a sip, crossing his eyes when he notices Luke watching. Luke makes a silly face just to watch Michael giggle back.

It’s cute.

Luke wants to kiss him.

“Do I get to meet him, this Ashton?” Michael asks, bringing Luke’s focus away from his mouth.

“I don’t see why not”

“Will that be before or after I take you out?”

Luke pauses, eyes wide in surprise. Michael's face doesn’t change, still so sure about the words he's just said, about the butterflies he set free in Luke’s tummy. After only a moment of hesitance, debating on his next move, with a sudden, slow burst of unnecessary confidence, he leans in. Michael was expecting it, so he leans in as well, not even deterred when Luke pulls back in a second of doubt before completely surging forward and capturing Michael's lips in his own.

It’s nothing too graphic, nothing too overwhelming, just a small sweet kiss that has him craving more. Luke could kiss him all day if Michael let him, but the other man pulls away, biting his lip in a positively giddy smile, and then giggles a question that has Luke’s heart pounding.

“Can I get your number?”

Luke walks back to his car later that night with a skip in his step, a thousand feelings dancing behind his eyes. He has Michael's number written on his arm and his taste on his lips and nothing has ever felt more electrifying.

This summer could very well be something to remember.

☀

Luke’s still high off of the night before when he goes over to the Irwin house in the day. They’ve not made any distinct plan of when or where they’re meeting up, Luke doesn’t even know when Ashton’s arriving in town, but he's in probably the best mood he's been in all summer, and he can’t wait one more minute to see his best friend.

It’s hardly past noon when he gets to the Irwin house, Ashton’s car sitting up front, passenger side window still rolled down like he forgot about it when locking his vehicle up. Luke walks towards the house and, without knocking, opens the door and enters.

Sitting in the living room are Harry and Lauren, watching a movie together, completely lacking an older brother. He waves at them, receiving two small smiles in response and a gesture towards the family room. Luke heads that way, yelling out a greeting of, “Is anybody home?” only to receive silence in response. “Hello?”

There’s a sound like a door hitting something, and then Ashton’s voice comes floating through the door, “Is that who i think it is?”

Luke walks around a corner into the family room and sees Ashton putting what looks like his bedding from university into the linen cabinet. As soon as they meet eyes, Luke’s rushing forward and letting his arms swallow Ashton’s frame.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbles into Ashton’s hair as the older boy just laughs. “I feel like you shrunk. Did you shrink?”

Ashton shakes his head in response, but it only works to get his hair in Luke’s mouth. “Not at all, I think you just got taller,” he jokes. “You’re so big.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he complains, wanting to put some distance between them before he starts crying. “Get away from me; I don’t want to touch you any longer.”

He pushes Ashton away, who just laughs and heads back to where he was, by the linen closet, and gets back to putting the bedding away. Even now, just standing in the same room as him, has Luke standing on the tip of his toes and having to stop himself from bursting in laughter. A pure, giddy feeling is swimming through his veins, and he doesn’t think it’ll ever come up for air.

“I’m so happy you came over this early,” Ashton is saying as he tries to stuff his sheets in along with the other linens. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do all day without you.”

“I couldn’t even sleep last night, to be honest with you.”

Ashton laughs, shaking his head as he struggles with the sheets. “This is ridiculous,” he jokes. “We’re grown men.”

“We’ll always be children,” Luke disagrees. “Especially when we go an entire year without seeing each other.”

“That’s far too long, I’ll say. We should meet up every month.”

Luke hums, playing with the edge of his shirt as he says, “Well, it wouldn’t have been a year of a wait if you’d’ve just come home for our birthdays.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ashton groans. He bends over to pick up his duvet to put on the top shelf. “I was so busy. I can actually graduate in the winter will all the credits I racked up this year.”

Of all the people Luke’s discussed education with, Ashton’s by far worked the hardest for his degree. Social welfare isn’t what he'd always imagined his best friend working in, but when Ashton chose, it made complete sense.

He wants to help people, is his reasoning, but it’s so much more than that. There could an entire character study done on the enigma that is Ashton Irwin. Understanding him should be a degree in its own right, but Luke’s happy to just accept his simple explanation because he knows himself how hard Ashton’s worked, and that when he finally graduates, he'll feel complete.

“And then you can live in Sydney with me, right?” Luke offers. “We’ll be two countrymen in the city, charming the locals with our farming capabilities.”

Ashton scoffs, smile still shining, matching Luke’s like they both can’t contain the joy that being near each other brings. “Aside from the fact that neither of us can farm, I won’t even be fully moved in by the time you’re dragging me back home because you can’t stand it there.”

“God, I really can’t.”

He loves his major, honest. There’s no doubt about the fact that without art, Luke would not be the person he is today, would not see the beauty in the world as he does. He sees things differently now, feels emotions from things that he wouldn’t’ve even noticed in the past. His major is his entire life.

Sydney is not for him, though. Putting aside the fact that he doesn’t have a multitude of friends, only his roommate and a few friends within his major, he doesn’t enjoy the campus, the city, the culture, like he thought he would.

If it were up to him, he'd be living somewhere like Milan, or Rome, or that one place in America where all the alternative people live — Portland, that’s what it’s called.

“C’mon, Luke,” Ashton sighs when he's finished putting his bedding away. “I’ve got some fruit and water in my room. Let’s go talk there.”

“Fruit and water?” Luke gasps mockingly. “What’ve we been waiting out here for!”

Ashton groans again, and it makes Luke bite his lip just to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. “Shut it, would you? It’s only been a few minutes and you’re already being a prick.”

“I could leave if that’s - ”

“Don’t you dare!” he yells, getting shushing from his siblings in return. He lowers his voice and continues, “I can’t go another minute without hearing literally everything about the past year of your life.”

They run up the stairs, laughter following after them and dancing around their ears. It feels like ten years earlier when they had minimal problems and candy tinted dreams. They race past the living room where Lauren and Harry are sitting, and though he wants to apologize for the noise they’ve made, are making, and will continue to make throughout the night, he wants even more to spend time with his best friend in the entire world.

They get into Ashton’s room, and it’s been _far_ too long since he's been in here. Everything is exactly the same — the posters on the wall, the wooden desk in the corner, even a cork board the the two used to pin papers with their current crushes’ names on it. Luke doesn’t even want to look at the board, too afraid of seeing how terrible his taste was back then. His entire childhood reeks of secondhand embarrassment.

“Alright,” Ashton sings as he hops into his bed, crinkling the dark red duvet that they once spent entire nights whispering to each other underneath. “Now tell me about Sydney. Tell me about that roommate of yours.”

Luke hums, shrugging as he climbs on the opposite side of the mattress, leaning against the wall. “Uni’s okay, he's okay,” he answers vaguely, “It’s not a big deal, nothing to talk about.”

“What?” Ashton laughs, his face one of shock. “Are you kidding me?”

“I can tell you that there’s literally nothing interesting about school,” he assures, leaning forward to continue, “I’ll tell you about when I talked to Bryana a few days ago, though.”

Ashton’s eyes widen at Bryana’s name, but ultimately he doesn’t show much of a reaction other than a minute nod of his head. “What’s she up to, then?”

Luke tells him about Bryana, tells him about all what she’s up to, the work she’s doing, and how when they got to talking she was genuinely interested in hearing about how Ashton’s doing. Not so much to see who’s doing better in the breakup, but an authentic question about his wellbeing, just because she cared.

They were close when they were together, but they both knew they didn’t have the greatest chemistry between them. Though, by the time they figured that out, it was too awkward to be just friends, and they decided it was best to just go their separate ways. So, the emotion is still there, but neither of them address it.

Ashton’s over her anyway, he explains. He'd had a few relationships while he was away at uni, but his most recent one ended a few weeks prior. He was too focused on his thesis to focus on their relationship, and by the time classes were over, he was just ready to spend a summer being single with his best friend.

That’s where Luke starts to smile, starts to blush, starts to become that pitiful guy he becomes whenever he thinks about Michael, whenever he thinks about how he's the only thing that he _can_ think about.

So he tells Ashton about Michael, watches Ashton laugh and coo and wink at appropriate moments, can feel himself reacting in kind because lately all he's wanted to do is just sit down and talk about this wonderfully dorky guy full of snark and confidence. It’s ridiculous, and Luke knows he should move past the subject, but everything he says just reminds him of something else. They’ve known each other not even a week, and he's already so gone.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Luke,” Ashton warns, “but you sound so whipped for this guy.”

“Oh, god,” Luke groans, laughing along with it as he falls onto his side on the bed. “I think I am. I’ll tell you, he's all that’s been on my mind since I got home.”

“Do I get to meet him?”

He nods in confirmation, “Of course. I just don’t know when I’m going to see him again.”

The answer comes later when he and Ashton are long past catching each other up on their lives and were now just eating snacks and talking shit about themselves growing up. Halfway through reminiscing of the time they took Ashton’s mom’s car out for an unsuccessful joyride in year nine, Anne Marie Irwin knocks on the door with the landline in her hand. “Luke, Sweetie,” she greets.

“Is that my mom?” Luke asks midway through a bite of his apple as he points to the phone.

“Doesn't she know you’re sleeping over?”

“I told her about four million times,” Luke rolls his eyes, “so if it’s her, I - ”

Anne Marie interrupts then with a nod of her head. “She said you got a call from someone named Michael. She didn't know if you'd want to wait to call back or call now, so I brought the phone for you.”

When the name registers, Luke has to blink a few times to double check that he's actually awake, that he hasn’t started daydreaming about the only thing he's _been able_ to dream about.

“Thanks mom” Ashton takes the phone out of her hand gently, and Anne Marie leaves with a wave of the hand, shutting the door behind her. “What the fuck are you sitting around for, then?” Ashton asks, laughter bubbling out in astonishment. There’s nothing funny about this in Luke’s mind, but he's sure he'd see the humor in it if he wasn’t absolutely shitting himself. “Call him!”  

“Right!” he rushes to his wallet to find the slip of paper he wrote Michael's number on when he got home from the pub last night, dials it quickly.

After only three rings, there's a click, and a tinny voice bleeds through the speaker. “ _Hello_?”

“Michael? This is Luke.”

“ _Hold on_ ,” the voice says. There's some movement over the line, a voice in the background before the line gets picked up again and it’s Michael, saying his name.

Luke has to clear his throat before he's able to answer. “Michael, hi. My mom said you called. What’s going up?”

He can hear Ashton’s laugh, his “Luke!” before he realizes that he's already messed up the conversation and they’ve not even really began yet.

“On!” he corrects. “What’s going on?”

“ _Nothing much_ ,” Michael laughs. “ _You alright over there, Princess? You sound a little - not normal._ ”

“I’m - fine. Honest. Just with my friend.”

He hums on the other side of the line, and it gives Luke a little bit of hope. He'll take anything he can at this point, figuring it can’t get much more embarrassing than it already is. “ _Oh, yeah. You’re friend came home today, that’s right. I can call back if it’s a bad time_.”

“No,” he rushes to say, ignoring Ashton’s curious eyes at the sudden way Luke sits, spine straightening out as though something needs his full and immediate attention. “It’s a great time! It’s never a bad time.”

“ _Well, I’ll still make it quick_ ,” Michael bargains, “ _don’t want to ruin the reunion. I was just wondering if you’d like to go to the Tamworth Fair with me tomorrow? It’s the last day for it, and I’m quite interested in seeing the fireworks with the sweetest person in the world._ ”

As Michael's proposal progresses, Luke can feel himself reacting in kind. A part of him knew that this is what would happen, of course Michael was going to ask him out, but an even bigger part of him was worried that this wouldn’t happen, that maybe the kiss meant something entirely different to Michael than it did to Luke. So hearing that Michael wanted to see him, even buttering him up as if he would say anything other than yes -

“ _But, seeing as he isn't available, I figured I’d call you._ ”

Luke laughs. Loudly. It comes out without his permission, and the interested faces Ashton’s been giving him double in intensity at the sound. “I’d absolutely love to.”

“ _Awesome_ !” he can very clearly hear Michael's smile in his voice, and it makes things even better knowing that the other man is just as excited. “ _I’ll meet you there around seven? It’ll give us enough time to ride some rides or play some games, or just talk if fairs aren’t really your thing_ \- ”

“No, no,” Luke cuts him off. “Seven sounds perfect! Honest.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, Princess.”

“You too!”

He takes the phone away from his ear, not having to hang up as the line went dead already. He sets it down and leans back against the wall, acting unaffected, like the most interesting thing to happen to him all summer didn’t just occur.

It doesn’t work, of course it doesn’t. He's with his best friend in the entire world, and things have never been calm and collected when something exhilarating happens. One wide grin and some eye contact, and they’re both laughing. There’s too much happiness and energy flying around for them to be anything less than seven decibels too loud.  

“What’s going on in here?” A pounding comes as the door flies open. It’s Anne Marie again, and though she sounds angry, it’s clear to see that she’s hiding a grin. Ashton and Luke jump, their excitement stopping abruptly.

“Nothing,” They lie simultaneously, trying to school their facial expressions into something of innocence, not to show the mischief they’re hiding (not very well).   

“If it’s nothing, then you won’t mind quieting down?”

“Yes, mom.”

She walks away shaking her head, which brings back such a nostalgic feeling for moments exactly like this when they were growing up, countless sleepovers where Ashton’s mom would ask them to stop being so noisy, or Lauren, his sister, would pick on them for being so obnoxious. It’s a strong and brilliant feeling and that, mixed with his giddiness for his date tomorrow, send him into another fit of giggles, Ashton joining in. It’s exactly what this summer needed, and he can’t wait for what the next three months throw at him.

☀

Though he stayed up all night at Ashton’s, only stopping their bonding to sleep once six in the morning rolled around, Luke was still up by nine to have breakfast with the Irwin family. He even stayed to help them clean up, which Anne Marie tried to decline. Anne Marie, however, was vetoed by not only Luke, but also Ashton — who didn’t want to do all the cleaning by himself.

When he'd got home he didn’t have anything he absolutely had to do, but he couldn’t get himself to nap, too excited about seeing Michael, about actually going out on a date with this amazing man. More than just a night watching him sing while they’re surrounded by fifty sweaty strangers and Michael’s best friend.

Not that it wasn’t one of the best nights of Luke’s life. Not that the memory of Michael's chilling voice doesn’t still have him swaying on his feet. He definitely loved it, but having Michael all to himself, being able to actually talk to him, to get to know him and just _be_ with him — it had Luke anticipating the date all day. So now he's here, only three hours of sleep under his belt, leg shaking uncontrollably in welcome suspense.

He's not even been sat on the bench near the entrance to the fair for a full minute when he sees Michael walking up to him. He stands up before the other man reaches him, arriving with a gentle, “Hello.”

“Hey,” Luke greets back, a mile-wide smile taking over his face.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “I just sat down a few minutes ago, honest.”

“Good, good,” Michael grins, placing his hand on the small of Luke’s back as he drags them away from the entryway and guides them onto the path to walk about the fair. “Traffic was a bitch, and Calum's car is literally the oldest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Luke laughs in an automatic reaction, “Is any car ever good enough for you?”

“Probably not, I’ll be honest with you,” Michael replies, chuckling himself. “ I have very high vehicular standards.”

“That was a very big word.”

Michael grins in response nudging his shoulder against Luke’s “Thank you. I like to read the thesaurus in my free time.”

“Really?”

“No, not really,” he snorts. “What do you take me for? A scholar?”

It’s only a minute in, and already Luke can’t contain his smile. They’ve barely talked about anything, barely spoken of themselves, and he's already drawn into the conversation like it’s his life line.

There’s something between them, he knows there is, can feel it in every step they take, in every word they speak. There’s something between them that’s pulling them together, making Luke feel happier, feel braver, feel _more_ when they’re with each other.  

And it’s dangerous. This instantaneous connection, it’s not something light-hearted. There’s a real risk in feeling this strongly for somebody, for feeling so _addicted_ to someone whom he barely knows. It can’t be safe — it’s definitely not smart.

And yet, Luke doesn’t care.

“I refuse to let this be awkward at all,” Michael says after what must’ve been a silent moment. Luke didn’t find it awkward in the least. “So tell me what you're down for, and we'll do it.”

“I’m not really a big fan of rides,” he confesses.

Michael stops walking completely, his jaw dropping in a mock outrage that has Luke fighting to keep his giggles in. “And you let me take you to a fair?” he scoffs. “Were you trying to set me up for failure?”

“No, never!” he denies, laughs escaping him. “I just figured any date with you is good, carnival rides be damned.”

“I’m glad that you entrusted a night with me, but I really don’t think I’m that interesting.”

“Don’t put yourself down Michael...” Luke trails off, not knowing his last name, so he moves past it. “You're plenty interesting.”

“Well, thank you,” he nods, grin on his face as he starts walking again, Luke falling in-time with his steps. “You’re plenty interesting yourself.” They don’t make it but three steps before he's adding, “And it's Clifford, by the way.”

“Hm?”

“My last name,” he answers. “It's Clifford.”

“Good to know,” he nods, biting his lip before he adds, “Now all I need is your social security number and my mission is complete.”

It’s a terrible joke, one that his dad’s made whenever a he meets somebody new, or when he takes a credit card number over the phone for his company. It’s not a good joke at all, but it has Michael nearly collapsing in laughter, skipping a few steps. “That was bad, Luke…”

Luke can hear the open ending for the request that it is, but he feels just… very silly around Michael so he jokes, “Are you trying to get my name out of me? Is this just like the party all over again?”

“Well I hoped it wouldn’t be,” Michael answers, “but that’s not looking too good, is it?”

“I don’t think it is.”

He's got a cocky grin on his face, he's sure. It makes him giddy knowing how mad he's driving Michael, even if it's all just a joke. They only make it a few steps before Michael's nudging his shoulder against Luke's. "Would you just tell me already?"

“It's Hemmings.”

“Luke Hemmings, aye?” he tries, and Luke loves the way it just rolls off his tongue. “Now all I need is your social security number and my mission is complete.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Everything between them is so easy, he notices. The talking, the smiling, the laughing, it all flows without much prompting. It’s a rare sort of connection, and there’s nothing difficult making things uncomfortable or anything that would make him second guess coming out tonight.

He hopes Michael can feel it too, can notice that the two of them work well together, that though the date has barely even started, this is already the best part of Luke’s day. He won’t say anything to Michael, not yet, but he really hopes he can see it on his own.

Michael leans lightly against Luke to ask, “So do you truly hate rides or do you just prefer not to ride them?”

He really wants to hold Michael's hand.  

“I mean,” he sings in response. “I don’t absolutely despise them or summat. I just don’t find them that fun.”

Michael hums, moving them over from the middle towards the left side of the path to avoid running into another couple they pass. “Would you, Luke Hemmings, do me the honor of letting me change your mind?”

“You could try, but I’ve really never had that much fun at a fair.”

Michael takes that as a challenge. He grabs his hand, pulling him away, and Luke can feel his pulse in his throat. They go to the nearest ride, which happens to be the teacups. The line isn’t as long as they thought it would be, but the ride itself is too long for Luke’s liking. It’s a solid five minutes of consistent spinning, and though he doesn’t absolutely hate it, it isn’t that great.

The next ride Michael drags them to is the Gravitron. Luke was never fond of this one because of the way it made his stomach completely fall out of his ass. He's only ridden it a few times and all of them have been over three years ago. He's honest in telling Michael exactly that before hand, but he still allows the other man to pull him along.

They wait in the line, they ride the ride, and Luke does _not_ have fun. His world is still spinning as Michael drags him to a table by all the food trucks, leaving Luke to his own devices for only a moment as he goes to buy a large lemonade — the ones that cost six dollars and could easily fill a family of four. They drink it together, Michael laughing through his apologies as Luke tries his hardest to see straight again.

They sit there for about twenty minutes before Luke starts feeling okay and actually trusts Michael to take him somewhere that won’t make his insides his outsides. Michael drags him to the drop tower, even though Luke protests the whole way, nearly kicking and screaming before he resigns to his fate and buckles himself into a seat ready to die, basically.

It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be. The first drops takes him by surprise and it leaves his stomach ten feet above him and his voice hitting its highest octave effortlessly. It doesn't make him sick, not like the Gravitron did, it just sets about a feeling of anticipation that reaches its peak and ebbs over at an inconsistent time frame. It's incredible.

Luke tells Michael as much when they get off the ride. He makes a show like it kills him to admit it, but even he can admit that the cocky grin on Michael's face makes trying these new things worth it. A little. He's never seen smug look so timeless.

Michael decides to amp things up after that, announces that it's time to try a roller coaster. The only problem is that the Tamworth fair isn't exactly Luna Park. They don't have coaster upon coaster, and the one that they do have is a dinky little thing called The Mousetrap. It's aimed to appeal to the younger kids as well, as the ride operator explains, and it's perfect — not too wild to make Luke sick, but not as dull as the teacups.

It’s followed up by the Himalaya, which is right next to The Mousetrap. They get a pretzel and cheese to share as they wait in line, the grounds starting to fill up proper now that it’s getting closer to sundown, closer to the fireworks, which is the only reason anyone would be at a fair on a Sunday night.

The rides aren’t exactly that exciting, they just feel like driving fast, but Michael is always talking and sharing stories and singing along with the music. And though he still wouldn’t put rides on the top of the list of his favorite things to do, being with Michael definitely makes things better.

They go through a funhouse or two as well, to give them both a break from the rides. The first one has all the spinny steps and moving bridges and it’s absolutely trippy. Michael clearly has no balance (but it's nothing compared to Luke's bowleggedness) and they both struggle to make it out to the end. The last part of it is a spinning tunnel that’s painted with a giant hypnotic swirl, and not only do they both stumble, but Michael full on slips, face planting and nearly getting taken for the full circle.

They also go into the room of a thousand mirrors, and it’s absurd. They can’t stop laughing at the picture the two of them in every mirror. It’s the kind of mindless fun that has your body aching from laughter and your eyes heavy just from the sheer enjoyment of being in that moment.

Luke knows all about the cliche, has watched the movies, read the stories — he knows what’s cliche and what isn’t. And this, a light, fun, floating above the clouds first date at the fair, is definitely it. He doesn’t care, though. Not really, not when he feels like the wealthiest man in the world, every moment that Michael smiles goes into the bank as though it were the most valuable item in the world.

They go into a corn maze just around sunset. Michael explains that the fireworks should be starting soon, and when they’d gone to take a seat on the giant lawn around the ferris wheel, it was completely packed. So they’re taking a walk, clearing their minds and just enjoy a nice, confusing maze in the maize.

“This has been the most exhausting day I’ve had all summer,” Luke sighs as they turn left for the first time in the maze, “and I absolutely loved it.”

Michael grins, swaying closer to him. “I’m glad you agreed to come out with me.”

They’ve been holding hands all day, in a way — Michael gripping tightly so they wouldn’t lose each other in the crowds, and forgetting to let go when they were in line. But now, now that they’re alone, only two other people in the maze and they’re far, far ahead of them, there’s no real reasoning to hold hands, other than Luke really fucking wants to.

“You would have needed a pretty terrible date idea to get a no out of me,” Luke confesses, clearing his throat so he can get the words out.

“Oh yeah?” Michael grins. “Like what?”

“I’m not sure.” Luke doesn’t even know why he said what he did. It could’ve been a date at a funeral home, and he still would’ve given an enthusiastic yes as an answer. “A monster truck rally, maybe? Or like, a lecture at a university or something?”

Michael hums, “Noted. I can guarantee I won’t take you out for either of those.”

Luke grins as him next words come to mind, can feel himself wanting to tease Michael, just for the sake of seeing the shocked, but still lovely, smile take over his face. “Although neither those sounds as bad as an open mic night in a crowded pub. That's got to be the worst.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Michael’s face lights up at the joke, slowing his steps and actually bumping into Luke, “you loved it.”

“It was alright, I guess.” As Michael stops laughing and they continue their pacing, Luke continues, “No, but you were actually really great. You were so into it.”

“Thank you,” Michael grins. “I loved having you there. Made me want to do better.”  

Luke loves the earnest look gracing Michael's face, loves how down-to-earth he is despite how absolutely magnificent he is. “I doubt you’re ever anything less than sensational. You're a star, Michael Clifford.”

“You're too sweet, Luke Hemmings,” Michael responds, looking giddy as he uses his full name. “Although, you come with a bit of a bite. Sassier than I thought you'd be. Bit of a surprise.”

“A good surprise?”

“The best, Princess.”

They’re not even trying to navigate, just mindlessly walking, making turns when they need to and not caring when they hit a dead end. It’s more about being together than actually escaping of the maze. In Luke’s mind, the longer they’re in here, the longer they can be together without any outside interruptions.

When they’re talking it’s not the mindless conversations he's had on other dates, and even when there are silly things being said, it doesn’t feel shallow. There’s always something worth saying, worth listening too. Nothing goes to waste when they’re together.

He'd say that sparks fly when they’re together, but the air between them is so charged that even just one spark is enough to burn the whole place down.

“So what about you?” Michael asks after they’ve let the quiet linger in the air long enough to appreciate the moment. “Is there anything that puts you in your element?”

“I like art.”

“That’s your major, right?”

“Yeah, Art History” he answers. He can feel himself about to go on a rant because he's just so passionate, and once you get him started… well, “I love it, I don’t know. There's a quiet beauty in everything, even these flashing lights and this terrible corn and those quite honestly terrifying mirrors back there. It's all art. I want to make it, I want to study it. I want to grow as an artist and learn from my peers. And seeing the beauty in the world is the easiest way to do that.”

They've stopped walking, he notices. Michael doesn’t say anything in response, but before Luke can question it, Michael leans forward and kisses Luke gently, not parting lips but lingering for longer than their first kiss. When he pulls away, Luke smiles and shakes his head.

“What was that for?”

Michael grins. “I was appreciating the beauty in the world.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

Michael winks and they pick up walking. Luke feels a bit brave and reaches out for Michael's hand, can feel when he squeezes back in kind.

“I know art isn’t really your thing,” Luke says.

Michael tilts his head making a noise of disagreeance, “I don't know about that,” he replies. “Music is art, right?”

“It is, I won’t deny that, but like, painting and photographs and sculptures. Art for the eyes — I know you might not be very into it, but I think you'd enjoy a museum. Everything is just so timeless.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luke smiles. He feels weird about telling someone to visit a museum of all places, feels like an egghead if he's honest with himself, but it’s something he really thinks Michael could enjoy. “Tamworth has a decent museum. It’s not the greatest, but it’s definitely worth seeing. You should check it out sometime.”

“Okay,” he agrees easily. “How’s Tuesday for you?”

“Sorry?”

“Tuesday,” Michael repeats, a grin in him voice and that confidence he's so great with dancing in him eyes. “Let’s go the museum. Take me there, show me the ropes.”

“I - alright.”

He nudges their shoulders together and confirms, “It’s a date then.” And their second date is already planned, meaning they both want to see each other again. “So since you’ve got me going to a museum, can I recommend some music to you?”

“Uh, sure,” Luke smiles. He wasn’t expecting that, but it’s only fair. And if he enjoyed Michael's performance, he's sure he'll have a great taste in music. “Who's your favorite artist right now?”

Michael thinks on it for a minute, probably having to go over a million different people and bands, and Luke almost feels guilty about asking for only one, but then Michael lights up. “That’d probably be Crystal Filter,” he concludes. “They’re kind of unknown, but they have this really raw sound. They’re actually coming to town soon and I was thinking of seeing them, but I’m waiting on Calum to get back to me about it.”

“Is their stuff available to buy?” Luke asks, wanting to make sure he'll have easy access to their music. “In the record shop in town or something?”

“Yeah!” Michael answers, laughing slightly as he jumps mid-step in excitement. “They don’t have a full album out yet, just two separate EPs but they’re so good, and I know they're selling in that coffee shop off Middlewich Road.” he stops talking for a moment just looking up into the dark, empty sky and letting Luke guide them through the maze. “I’d kill to be, like, an opening act for them, if only so I could watch them play every night.”  

Luke doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t want to break Michael's trance, doesn’t want to do something to take him away from his thoughts, but he wants to say _something_. He ends up joking, “Oh, so you’re, like, really into them.”

“Oh, could you tell?” They chuckle together, harmonizing in their happiness, bumping into each other without finesse.

And then something wonderful happiness.

Fireworks burst through the dark night, fiery blooms surpassing the lights from the rides, vivid colours to ignite the otherwise black sky. A quiet blanket falls over them for a moment as they watch on, and a vibrant purple charge explodes above them and shimmers down.

"And there are the sparks," Luke whispers to himself.

The only way the timing could have been better was if they were kissing, which Luke realizes may not be a bad idea for them to do. Multiple times. Tonight.

“I’m really glad you came out tonight,” Michael chimes in.

“I’m so glad you called,” Luke laughs. “Was almost afraid you wouldn’t.”

“No, I’ll definitely always come back for more, Princess.”

Luke blushes at the natural and relaxed way Michael says it. There’s something about him, something wild, that has Luke bouncing between shy and teasing, keeping him on two opposite sides on the spectrum, sliding between them.

He's almost prideful in the way Michael can do it to him so easily. He can’t wait to see what it’ll be like in the future, what’ll happen when they’ve gotten to know each other, gotten used to each other’s personalities and can be even _more_ of everything they are today.

“So you’re just back in town for the summer,” Michael asks. “Staying with your parents?”

Luke nods as they turn yet another corner, still unaware of where they’re actually going. “Yeah. Camping in my childhood bedroom until February.”

“Do you have siblings or anything? Any little ones running around?”

“Definitely not,” he snorts, trying to imagine his life if he'd had any younger siblings. He loves kids to death, but with who he is as a person, and how much he loved being the youngest, that wouldn’t have been a very good home dynamic. “I have two older brothers and they moved out long ago. I haven’t talked to them in a while, if I’m honest.”

Michael hums, his thumb rubbing circles into Luke’s hand. “That has to be tough,” he inputs. “Do you spend the holidays together?”

“I think Ben came home for Christmas the one year I stayed in Sydney to work on my year end thesis, but I’m not even sure if that actually happened.”

“That’s crazy,” he whispers empathetically. “One day everybody can be so close and the next day they’re complete strangers.”

“Mhm,” Luke hums. “It still feels a bit weird when it’s one of their birthdays. Because you call them, of course you do, but you never know if they'll pick up or not.”

“It does sound tough. Was there a, a fight or something? Or did you just stop talking?”

“Just stopped talking, really. Ben’s in America now for work and Jack’s doing a Master’s degree in Brisbane, so they have their own lives away from us. Things happen, I suppose.”

In the time frame of their brief conversation of Luke’s brothers, they’re voices have softened, quieted, put them in their own little bubble. Though the lights are bursting in the sky, everything is really intense, personal and wonderful.

It’s nice, being able to go from silly to serious to absolutely silent, the atmosphere changing around them, but the comfort level stays the same. It’s warm and welcome, and probably the easiest first date ever.

Michael breaks the silence, sound not even the slightest bit worried, “I hate to say it, Princess, but I think we're lost. This is incredible cliche.”

Luke knows cliches, and this really, really is. He's confident is saying, “I can get us out of here.”

“How?”

“Put your hand on the right wall,” he demonstrates, feeling a small bout of sorrow in extracting his hand from Michael's hold, “and follow it out.”

“That’ll wrap us around the whole maze,” Michael protests through the laugh bubbling out. “That could take forever.”

That’s not exactly a problem, Luke thinks. “Well I’ve got time. I wouldn’t mind spending it with you.”

“Alright. Let’s do it, Princess.”

Though they made a big deal about spending a long while together, the only have to turn four times before they’re at the exit, seemingly have been making plenty of correct turns mindlessly. It’s probably the most accomplished Luke’s felt with anything in a long time, and he barely had to do any work.

“Told you I could get us out of here.”

The date doesn’t last much longer than that, unfortunately. With the fireworks coming to a close and a lot of the rides closing down, they decide it’s probably best to head back to their cars, just to beat a lot of the rush.

The food and game stands are still open as they’re heading back, and Luke insists on buying Michael some candy floss when he notices the way the other man is eyeing the booth as they approach. Michael protests as first, but eventually gives in. If the astonishing speed in which he ingests it is any tell, he's probably happy he did.

They make it to the car park before the more packed crowds find their way out, arriving at the car way too early, in Luke’s opinion. “I’ll call you?” Michael asks, having Luke nod in response.

The last thing Michael does before heading off is lean in and part Luke’s lips with his own, his face cradled in Michael's hands. They’ve kissed before, but not like this. This is deep, and intoxicating, and _hot_.

Luke's never had much of a sweet tooth, but he could live off of the saccharine taste of Michael's tongue.

☀

Their next date, the trip to the museum is just two nights after their first official date. There’s only one day in between in which Luke doesn’t see Michael, but they stay in communication the entire time. They exchange jokes and stories about their day and night, they talk movies and music, and of what they’d be willing to do in the future.

Liz won't be happy when the phone bill comes.

Luke won’t admit it to anyone if they asked, but discussing the future, even the near future, has him feeling a magical, wonderful kind of way. He's always been one to dive headfirst into relationships, loving a bit too much, so it’s not a shock that he's constantly stopping himself from doing the same with Michael. Making plans beyond a few days, coming up with things they’ll both like and getting to know each other, it has Luke’s heart soaring, has him walking on cloud nine.

Every time the phone rings, it’s a race for him to answer it. His parents are giving him knowing looks, but truly, he couldn’t care less. He knows it’s obvious, and he knows he should probably tone it down, but with every tinny laugh from the other end of the phone line, it’s another possibility of it him falling deeper into Michael.

The majority of their conversations, though, are spent with Luke answering Michael's questions. Michael has never been to a museum before, not even as a kid on a school trip. He keeps explaining ostentatious outfit ideas in great detail — he even throws in a few jokes about leaving his jewels at home. Luke couldn’t tell him anything past nice pants and a plain-colored shirt, so Michael stopped asking (but the teasing never ceased).

Luke wanted to drive, offered to pick Michael up. He envisioned himself arriving at the doorstep, knocking, dealing with Calum as though he were a parent. He wanted to walk down the pavement together and open the car door for Michael, make it like it was Luke’s date, since Michael took control of the date at the fair, but Michael insisted on picking Luke up, and when being faced with the most beautiful voice he's ever heard begging for something, Luke doesn’t have the strength to say no.

So he lets Michael pick him up, lets him walk Luke down his pathway and open the door. It doesn’t feel like he's giving up power, though, feels more like they’re sharing a moment that Michael's currently guiding. Luke will catch the next one, he's sure.

The drive is quiet, the low hum of the radio playing in the background as the two exchange sly glances at each other. Small words are passed back and forth occasionally — Luke rattling off directions to the venue and Michael singing quietly to the music — but other than that it’s a still, intimate drive, Luke’s hand laced with Michael's over the center console as they head to the museum to share their night together.

“They have a lot of artwork for the permanent collection, but there's also a featured exhibit just down the hall,” Luke explains after they've arrived and are walking through the large glass doors. They're in a large white room, sculptures all around, and there’s a hallway leading into the other exhibit. He doesn’t think he'll take Michael to it, not with its… _risque_ subject, but he still feels obligated to point it out. “It’s all divided into segments, so wherever you want go first, I’ll gladly follow.”

Michael hums, he hasn’t said anything since Luke insisted on paying, but there’s been a small grin that’s almost hidden gracing his face. “This is a lot of power you’re giving me, Princess,” he jokes, looking around the room, “and I hope you know I’m very excited for this.” Luke is too, but he doesn’t say that, just smiles accordingly as Michael intertwines their pinkies together and drags him off toward the first piece. “I know this one,” Michael points out. “Let’s start here.”

Of course he knows the piece, Luke thinks to himself looking into the oil-painted eyes, as it’s one of the artist’s most popular pieces. “This is _Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait_ ,” Luke explains, focusing more on the painting than on Michael. It’s the opposite of what he usually feels inclined to do, but the art is important tonight, and Luke really wants Michael to feel the full effect. “You can really see the impressionistic elements in the color choice and the very visible brush strokes.”

Michael nods along, “Impressionism,” he tries, “That’s what he was known for, right?”

“He was a post impressionist,” he corrects. “He was after that era with Gauguin, Cezanne, and Seurat.” Michael doesn’t look like he's as into it as Luke is, so he rushes to continue. “Speaking of, Van Gogh was inspired by a Gauguin piece titled ‘ _les Miserables_.’ It was a self-portrait as well and Van Gogh thought that Gauguin looked like a Buddhist monk, and so he painted this piece and dedicated it to him. He was trying to emulate the look of a Buddhist Monk in his own piece, but - ”

“He kind of looks like Chuck Norris.”

Luke smiles down at Michael, can’t contain it, not after such an odd comment that wasn’t even followed up with a smile. “That’s not what he was trying to do,” he jokes. “but I guess art can’t be planned.”

Michael hums, and the two of them walk over to the next piece. Michael nods along, eyes looking almost heavy as Luke explains the pieces to him. He feels on edge, slightly, not sure if Michael's having a good time or caring for what Luke’s saying, and it has him trying to find a more interesting way of explaining the art.

They rush through a few pieces, Luke finding himself talking without even thinking about it, on autopilot as he searches his brain for something interesting to say, something good to bring to the table. A hopeful sign comes as they’re approaching a far corner of the in-house pieces.

“You ever heard of Andy Warhol?” Luke asks as they come to a stop in front of the painting.

“Yeah,” Michael answers. “He did all those color things or whatever they’re called.”

“Pop art, yeah,” he confirms. “This is an oil painting from a lesser known pop artist. He was a contemporary of Andy Warhol and is actually still alive and creating pop art,” Michael nods along and Luke continues. “His name is James Gill and this is his _Marilyn Triptych._ This is Marilyn, lounging in the plush-looking seat, and an interesting fact is that this piece was done the same year of her death.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I am not sure if it was before or after, though. If it was done before her death, it’s even more interesting that in the last panel he's nude, because that’s how he was found after her overdose.”

Michael doesn’t say anything for a moment, observing the piece. From this angle, Luke can see his eyes flickering to the different places in the portrait. Finally, he responds with, “That’s really pretty.”

And it isn’t an evaluation of the artist, or the purpose behind it. It isn’t something deep or profounding that strikes a chord of pure emotion, but it’s something. It’s evidence that Michael sees something, that’s he's present and is enjoying even just one moment of their time at the museum. It sparks a flicker of hope inside Luke.

It doesn’t last long, though, not with the way Michael slowly starts fading out after that. How at each piece of art they look at, every sculpture and painting and photograph, Michael spends a longer and longer time looking at the work, only to mutter out a hollow comment of “That’s nice” or “I see what you mean.” It’s almost draining to be walking around, exhausting himself with trying to connect the other man to the art, only to fail.  

"Is everything alright?" Luke finally asks halfway through explaining one of Pollock's more underrated works, giving in when Michael looks as though he's not even paying attention to what's going on, and Luke’s tongue feels like lead, unable to speak anymore if nobody will listen.

"Hm?" Michael asks, blinking a few times as he focuses on the painting in front of him before rapidly facing Luke. "I'm sorry, Luke. What was that again?"

A hot lick of irritation accompanied by a mild embarrassment hits Luke. He expected Michael to feel a little out of his element, but he never expected this genuine boredom. He understands that this type of art isn't for everybody, but Michael looking so worn out and uninterested hurts. "I asked if everything was alright," Luke clarifies. "You looked tired."

Michael cringes, it mostly likely hitting him that he's been spaced out. "I'm sorry, Luke," he apologizes, eyes wide as he continues. "I'm a bit up in my head right now."

"Don't be sorry," Luke waves him off, head shaking as he tries to comfort not only Michael but also himself. "It's not everybody's thing. I'm sorry for dragging you - "

"What?" Michael asks, sounding astonished. If he wasn't already looking at Luke, his head would've whipped towards him. "That's not what I meant, Princess," he defends. "I'm up in my head trying to see what you see. I want to be able to add to the conversation and show off a bit. I really am sorry, Luke. You have to believe me here. I just really don’t understand any of it."

That makes it better, Luke thinks as he slowly melts inside. The embarrassment lingers a little but the irritation floods free, feeling happy and almost honored that Michael's trying so hard to understand what he sees. "That's kind of the point, I think," he explains, cheeks red. "Like, we see two completely different things than each other and probably even the artists and I- it’s stupid never mind."

"Luke, really," Michael consoles, hand reaching up to rub at the back of Luke's neck. "Let's keep looking. I'll pay attention."

"I don't want to force you to pay attention," he tries. "We can head out if you want."

He would rather head out and feel a bit embarrassed but hopefully have another, better, date planned (preferably by Michael) than stick around here and face total humiliation trying to get Michael to look at even one work of art and feel… just, anything. He doesn't know if the payoff is worth the work, doesn't know if he wants to invest the time just to have Michael feel as though he's gotten nothing from the trip.

He wants to call it a night, but Michael is standing in front of him, shoulders high and a set look on his face. "I'm not leaving until you give me another chance."

"I -"

Luke cuts himself off, feeling terrible for taking him to this damn museum, for even suggesting such an idea to Michael, someone who lives and breathes music. Why Luke thought he'd enjoy, or even _tolerate_ , such an idea is a mystery to him. He feels silly, is what it is, feels ridiculous that he's standing here while Michael has to pretend to want to keep looking around.

Their first date was so wonderful, and even the predate, just watching Michael sing, seeing him in his true element as he entertained a crowd of complete strangers, managing to hold them captive with just his voice, that was spectacular. There's just something about Michael, something that draws people in and makes them want to sink inside of him and know everything they can. Luke can admit that it's not the same for him, he doesn't have that magnetic effect. It never felt like that much of a deal before, but standing before Michael, wanting to leave one of his favorite places in the world, it feels monumental.

He can't believe he ruined what they had going, that he took their winning streak and turned into a pile of shit that even Rothko wouldn't put his name on. It looks dim, like the night will end tragically.

But then Luke gets an idea.

"One more exhibit," he checks.

"That's all I need, honest," Michael agrees earnestly. "I'll make it up to you."

Luke nods, his hand grabbing for Michael's as they walk down the hall towards the exhibit that he'd originally had no intention of viewing. “Well, the thing is,” he explains as they approach. “I’ve never seen this exhibit.”

“Oh,” Michael stops short at that before picking up an continuing. “So what - like what are we… I mean, you’ve kind of been showing me around. So like - ”

“Well I think you should show me around,” he suggests, stopping Michael before he could talk himself in a circle. “Tell me what you think of all the art. I think it’s only fair.”

Michael doesn’t look very excited, isn’t absolutely jumping at the chance, but he doesn’t look bored or annoyed at all. If anything he looks nervous and that makes Luke think that maybe he's nervous about this night, that maybe, hopefully, this date means something to him too and that it’s not just a week-long fling. But then again, he could just be seeing signs where there aren’t any. His hopes are up, and now he's just wishing they don’t let him down.

“I can do that, yeah,” Michael agrees. “But, I won’t know what I’m talking about. You'll probably get a bad experience out of it.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke smiles. “I think you’ll do great.”

“Lead the way then.”

Luke takes them down to the bend in the hall, but there are two men standing tall asking to see Michael and Luke’s hands. Michael's clearly confused, btu Luke knows that they’re looking for a red dot. As they bought their way in they were both required to show an ID, and anybody under the age of eighteen was given a red dot, a clear marking banning them from seeing the exhibit.

Michael doesn’t know that, doesn’t know what’s just around the bend. So Luke watches him closely, sees every emotion of confusion and slight irritation at the security guards. And when they turn the corner he can see it all slip away into pure, unadulterated shock.

It’s a nude exhibit, Michael finds out, and the first thing Luke sees when he turns to the room is a small statuette of a man with four penes, and Michael can’t take his eyes off of it. Luke would be intimidated by his dates clear interest in masculine anatomy, but then Michael starts _laughing_ and Luke can’t help but smile in kind. Things may get ridiculous.

“You can’t expect me to be serious in here.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Luke grins, loving the look of pure joy on his date’s face. “I want to hear your take on things. Give me a lesson in art and tell me what this place is about.”

Michael walks them around the exhibit, giving his take on the art, coming up with backstories for the subjects of the art as opposed to the history behind the artist. It’s an interesting take on how to go through, but it has Luke holding in laughter more often than not as Michael gets quirky with it and really gets weird.

“And as you can see here on this bus advert,” Michael begins, walking Luke towards _Do Women Have To Be Naked To Get Into The Met. Museum?_ by Guerrilla Girls. He's got a giggle in his voice, but it doesn’t sound as though it’s about this piece, moreso that it’s lingering from the previous photograph he was explaining. “It’s selling the buyer…” And then he trails off, reading the print on the page. He sounds serious, all traces of their previous conversations gone, when he asks, “Wait is this true?”

 **Less than 5% of the artists in the Modern** **  
****Art Sections are women, but 85%** **  
** **of the nudes are female.**

“Yeah,” Luke answers, looking more at Michael than the artwork this time, having already read its text a million times. “It’s a social commentary on how few women artists are showcased, and how much of art history is dominated by male artists. It was created a few years ago, and it’s still so relevant. Probably always will be.”

Michael doesn’t respond at first, looks back at the painting and then at the other pieces around it. “I really like this piece.” It doesn’t sound like earlier, doesn’t sound hollow and empty, like he's not sure of what he's saying. He's got his eyes on the piece and there’s something in them, something that has his voice filling with emotion, and it’s exactly what Luke wanted all along.

They linger by the work for a bit, Michael looking around, most likely doing what Luke did when he first saw the piece in his Art History textbook, and seeing how many pieces are by men and of naked women, seeing if the facts line up. They don’t end up moving on until a man and woman come approaching to the view the piece themselves. As they do so, Michael slowly slips back into his joking persona as they observe _Les Demoiselles d’Avignon_ and _Souvenir de Biskra_.

As they approach _Capitoline Venus_ by Praxiteles, Michael's seemed to have moved his mind past the Guerrilla Girls piece and is back to usual. “This is me as I’m getting out of the shower,” he starts. “You’ve come over to visit, but I wasn’t aware. Halfway through covering myself, I realize that it’s useless and that you should undress instead.”

“That’s not bad,” Luke comments, focusing more on the art so as to take attention away from his flaming cheeks, Michael's explanation putting an image into his head he definitely wanted to see, but maybe not in public. “This is actually the Goddess of Love, and she is attempting to cover up her breasts and genitals, but he's not doing a good job of it. This is meant to bring more attention to her sexuality and these parts of her bodies.”

Michael grins, “I’m a regular art buff, aren’t I?” Luke shakes his head, not even willing to attempt dealing with Michael's mock ego.

They continue making their rounds, Michael getting amazed by the realistic qualities of _The Origin of the World_ , but losing his mind at the aptly titled _Origin of War_. It’s fun, Luke admits to himself, having a laugh in the nude exhibit at the art museum with the most wonderful person he's ever kissed. It’s all an amazing night, and completely unpredictable, it turns out.

Because nobody would’ve guessed they’d get kicked out.

“I’m so sorry,” Michael apologizes to Luke as they’re walking down the steps away from the entrance to the museum, a security guard following closely behind them to make sure they don’t try to sneak back in (not that Luke would pay another thirty dollars just to get kicked out again).

“It’s honestly alright,” he responds truthfully, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. _Him_ , Luke Hemmings, art lover extraordinaire, being kicked from the local art museum. “I’ve been occupying time by bringing my dad lunch and buying milk for my mom. This was more fun than I ever could've expected.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Michael laughs. “And I promise that our next date will - ”

Luke tunes out the rest of Michael's words, shocked to hear that Michael thinks there will be another date, absolutely stunned that he'd want to go back out, especially after how poorly Luke put this date together. It ended in laughter, sure, but he didn’t think Michael would actually offer himself up for another chance to let Luke ruin a date.

He doesn’t know how to say that, not without sounding pathetic or needy, not wanting Michael to think he's begging for another chance. “If you didn’t have fun or like you don’t like me,” he grimaces at the awkward phrasing, “we don’t have to go out again.”

Michael doesn’t answer just yet, leaving Luke hanging like he's been privy to doing all evening, “Are you insane?” he eventually asks, voice tinged with laughter. “Of course I like you. I wanna go out again and again and again. Do you not want to go out?”

“No!” Luke’s quick to protest. “No, I definitely do. I just thought you didn’t have a good time.”

“Luke,” Michael laughs, stopping his pace to face Luke, grabbing both of his hands with his own. “We just got kicked out of a nude exhibit for laughing at a greek goddess’s vagina. I’m pretty sure we both had a great time.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Michael agrees confidently. “So Thursday? We could go see a film, and maybe you could come to my concert with me next week. How’s that sound?”

It sounds perfect, and Luke tells Michael as much, happy to kiss him against the door of Calum’s car before the both get inside and he allows Michael to drive him home, singing along to radio as Luke points out directions. The ride home goes the exact way as the ride in, but Luke feels different. Happier. More settled with where he stands with Michael.

Next time, Michael can pick the place.

☀

They go to a movie, and then have a night in at Calum’s where they do far more than just kiss on the couch (Luke went home very late that night and immediately fell asleep, exhausted from certain… activities). They go out to breakfast and take a midnight car ride to get ice cream from two towns over, and before he knows it, it's the day of the concert and Luke’s waiting at the venue, having showed up early. He'd been so worried about not being able to find The Vibe that he'd left much earlier than he'd needed to, almost panicked as Michael's earlier directions led him farther out than he'd expected.

The venue is on the outskirts of town, far away from all the usual hustle and bustle of the nightlife in Hillvue. There aren’t as many people as he'd first assumed there would be, especially for a concert that’s supposed to be one of Michael's favorite bands.  

If he's being honest, he's bricking it. This is the first time they’re seeing each other after how close they got on Tuesday, and Luke isn’t sure how to go about things. When he left, things were fine — great even — and it seemed like Michael really enjoyed himself, but as Luke’s leaning against the building just a few feet down from where the line ends, he doesn’t know if things will be awkward. Or if Michael is showing up at all.

They spoke on the phone the night before about meeting up outside the building, but for all Luke knows, Michael could’ve changed his mind. He can’t stop worrying about whether or not tonight will go well. In his experience, after people — women _or_ men — get what they want, they tend to fade out of Luke’s life. It’s part of the reason he doesn’t date much, but Michael seemed different.

He's _really_ hoping that proves to be true.

“Luke,” he hears in the distance. Looking up he sees Michael rushing towards him, cheeks dusted pink and slightly out of breath. “Hey, sorry I’m late. I hope you haven't been waiting too long.”

He shakes his head, “Only a few minutes,” he denies, “it’s nice out, so I wasn’t too bothered.”

“Well, that’s good,” Michael smiles. He gestures with his head to the line leading into the venue. Not very many people have showed up yet, probably only about two-hundred, so the venue shouldn’t be too crowded, and their wait shouldn’t take very long. “So how have you been?”

It doesn’t feel awkward. Michael's grinning, his shoulder touching Luke’s, and their hands brushing against each other. The conversation isn’t very lively, but Luke’s going to put that on the fact that it’s early in the night. It’ll pick up soon.

Already he feels lighter.

“I've been great,” he answers as they take their spot in line. “Been helping my dad around the house a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” he bumps his shoulder against Luke’s, the line inching forward in small segments. “Like, cooking or construction?”

“Cleaning, actually,” he answers. “Not all stereotypes are true, Michael.”

Michael snorts in response. “You don't have to tell me twice. I've never touched a tool in my life.”

“I've never successfully cooked a meal in mine.”

“Really?” he laughs, mouth staying open in an amused sort of shock. “Not even like a cheese toasty or some noodles?”

Luke shakes his head, stepping forward with the rest of the line as they start to approach the door. “My mom did all the cooking growing up and my roommate took over back at uni.”

“But what about weekends where your parents went away and you had to fend for yourself?”

“I was fifteen when my parents went away for the first time,” he starts, rolling his eyes when he realizes he's about to tell Andy’s favorite story. At least he isn’t there to join in. “I threw a house party and half the town came. They absolutely destroyed the house and my parents came home the next day before I had a chance to clean up. I've not been left alone since.”

Michael giggles, looking absolutely delighted at the story. His hand lifts up and falls onto Luke’s shoulder as his voice lets out an impressed, “you're a real party animal, who would've known?”

“Not really,” he denies, smiling when Michael doesn’t take his hand away. “It was Ashton, my best friend — he talked me into it. He also talked my parents out of grounding me until I was forty. He told them it was all his idea, and still, to this day, they blame the party on me.”

“They still like Ashton, right?”

“Oh they adore him,” he answers. “If they could switch us I'm sure they would.”

“That’d be their loss then.”

The line moves up again, sending the duo nearly to the front. Luke doesn’t want to rush any moment of the night, though, not wanting to give it a chance to go by too quickly. Especially not now, when conversation is flowing so easily, and Michael's smile is bright enough to light the entire venue.

“He'd probably burn the house down and they'd say it was my fault,” Luke adds, wanting to live forever in Michael's laughter. “I know I sound like I’m complaining, but I’m really not. I do love my parents, so much.”

“I didn't doubt you, Princess,” Michael hums, sliding his hand down Luke’s shoulder and grasping his hand. “You bring your dad lunch and buy your mom milk. You're a saint, Luke.”

That makes Luke laugh, shaking his head at the thought. “I'm far from a saint.”

Their shoulders nudge together again and they share a moment of silence, just grinning at each other. The line moves up, and they’re still in their own little world, until the bouncer at the door breaks through.

“Tickets, please?”

After handing their tickets over, Michael pulls Luke through the entrance into an open, yet full, room. The rope clinks behind them as soon as they’re past it, and Luke lurches forward slightly from the breeze that comes off of how quickly the bouncer’s hand moved.

“Still can’t believe you didn’t let me pay,” Luke complains, only half-joking, as they make their way into the venue and approach the bar set up just inside the door. “I feel like you’re always the one with the hottest ticket in town.”  

Michael doesn’t answer at first, looking at the way Luke’s resting his hip on the counter. He licks his lip around the smirk that forms. “Princess,” he starts, voice lower and quieter than usual, “you _are_ the hottest ticket in town.” Luke has to clear his throat and look away so he doesn’t melt with the heat behind Michael’s eyes.

It’s easy, being with Michael. They make each other smile and laugh without much difficulty and just being near him has Luke nearly floating, elated just to make simple conversation. He feels silly for stressing about the night because being here now makes him feel like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Do you want something to drink before we head in there?”

“No,” Luke responds, smiling sweetly at Michael's kindness. “I think I’m good. If you want something though, I can wait.”

A few strobe lights flash behind Michael's head. He laughs and shakes his head, stepping away from the wall and reaching out for Luke’s hand. “I don’t think getting drunk will be in our best interest tonight. We don’t have the greatest track record for our dates.”

“That’s… fair,” he agrees, sighing when he realizes just how true that’s turned out. “That makes sense. Tonight’s going to go fine, right?”

“I think it’ll be our best night ever, Princess,” Michael promises.

“Good.”

He takes a good look around the room and notices the black lights hanging up and how the bar is fully stocked, not just for the concert but in general. The wall behind the bar has a neon sign the says “Club Vibe” in a tacky font, strobe lights from by the doors flashing at it.

“Oh,” Luke gawks at the sign. “Is this a club?”

“Yeah,” Michael answers, a small chuckle in his voice. “Why? What’d you think it was?”

He shrugs in response, still looking around and taking in all the decorations that gave it away. “I have no idea. I thought it was just a concert venue or something. Maybe a music hall?”

“It’s literally called The Vibe.” Michael takes a step out, standing now in front of Luke, eyebrow raised in an amused confusion. “It’s sounds like sleazy club, why would you think it’s a venue?”

“I didn’t…” Luke trails off, not knowing how to answer, how to justify that he's not a tourist or anything. It’s almost embarrassing that Michael, the travelling musician that’s only been here for about a month, knows more about Hillvue than Luke does. “I swear I grew up here. I’ve never - ”

Michael's eyebrows elevate farther at the random comment and he's quick to cut Luke off. “I believe you, Princess.” Luke can only nod, not sure what to say to get away from the awkward moment. “Besides, this place is kind of hidden away. Edge of the town and all.”

“See,” Luke gestures to Michael. “I have an excuse.”

Michael grins in response, reaching out for Luke’s hand again as he walks them towards the entrance to where the actual music of the concert will be. As they walk into the room, Luke almost regrets not taking Michael's offer for a drink.

There are people standing all the way from the stage to the door, packing them tightly against the wall. It’s not very saturated, there are huge gaps between groups of people, but once the rest of the fans get in, there won’t be any breathing room, he predicts. Especially not with how small the room is too. There aren’t very many people in at all compared to how Luke thought a concert might be.

He's seen pictures before in _Rolling Stone_ of football stadiums filled with fans just for a concert, so he isn’t sure how people are going to fit inside this room. Although maybe alternative music concerts aren’t what he's expecting. Maybe that’s only rock concerts and other concerts are supposed to be small and squeezed tightly together.

Seriously, if anyone else comes he doesn’t know what he'll do.

“It’s really packed in here, Michael,” Luke leans over and speaks loudly into Michael's ear. With everybody in the room talking and yelling and laughing, it’s like he needs a megaphone to get his point across.

“The place has a maximum capacity of like 250 people,” Michael explains, stepping closer to Luke but overall keeping his eyes forwards at the masses of people. “And 400 tickets were sold, so it’s understandable.”

Luke nods, trying to look out and find what Michael's looking for. “Does that mean we’re going to be standing here against the wall the whole time?”

“Luke,” Michael grins, still not looking at him, but gripping his hand even tighter in his. It has his heart skipping a beat the exact moment Michael's hand tenses. “If there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I don’t stand around and wait for anything. If you’re alright with a little adventure, I’ve got a plan.”

“Uh… sure,” he shrugs. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’re both relatively thin,” Michael observes, “If you hold on tight and move quickly, I think we can squeeze on through.”  

“I - ”

“This is only half of the people that are showing up to the concert, Princess,” he tries levelling, speaking faster than they were earlier in the night, sounding in a rush even though they’re already in the concert. “We got here early, and there’s a hundred more people coming. It’s now or never, are you in?”

“Yeah, let’s - ”

Michael secures his grip on Luke’s hand and pulls him through the people in front of him. They’re only walking, pulling through tensely as they pass people, but it feels as if they’re running a mile with the adrenaline he feels in his veins. Luke doesn’t do crazy stuff very often, and being here, in this crowd of people at his first concert, trying to get to the front despite not having gotten there before most of them… well, it feels like something illegal. It feels like they’re breaking the rules, and Luke’s heart is beating wildly in his chest as adrenaline races through his veins.

Michael runs smack into a really tall and broad man, and Luke can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Michael completely skips any apology that should’ve been made, instead choosing to slide past him and continue walking through.

They keep moving through the crowd, but a body separates their hands. They didn’t stop walking when it had happened until they each took a few steps in opposite directions. Luke’s pulse stutters and his breath deepens, wanting to panic, but he spots Michael, looking for him, about seven people away. They’ve only moved forward about six rows, and they have more than half of the floor to cover, so Michael points to the stage, gesturing for Luke to continue. He nods and they’re off again.

Luke walks as quickly as he can without drawing attention to himself. He keeps looking up to the stage, hoping to appear as though he's searching for somebody - the notion that he's doing something wrong is still pounding itself into his head, and the idea of it excites him.

He stops a few rows up and looks through the crowd to see if he can see Michael. He can’t, but he's only about six rows from the stage, so he keeps going. The crowd is thicker up here, and more people are coming in and filling in the empty spaces, so he only makes it past about three people before it gets too cramped. He stops moving forward then, deciding to wait for Michael to catch up to him. Worst case scenario, he'll yell his name so they can navigate their ways to each other.

Michael catches up to him right as the lights start to dim. The crowd, now completely packed together, starts cheering. The band doesn’t come out just yet and the cheering dies down. Luke turns asks, “Do you think we’re up close enough.”

Michael turns around, looking at the crowd behind them. “Well,” he sings, turning back towards the stage and looking around. “We were in the very back, and now we’re almost in the front row. I’d say we’ve travelled pretty far.”

“I think it helps that we got here before everyone did and the crowd got dense.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Michael agrees. “If we’d have gotten here a few minutes later, we’d probably be farther back. I think we got away with so much movement was because not as many people are here yet.”

“They are now.”

“Which is great,” he smiles, both of them watching as smoke starts to lightly cover the stage floor. “Because it looks like the show is starting up.”

“Yeah,” Luke answers, having to raise his voice as the crowd gets noisier as well, “but it’s just the opening act and some people don’t show up for that.”

Michael laughs, nudging against Luke before turning towards his, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Luke, this isn't a show for the top forty artists,” he explains. “Like, not on the radio, indie. Only 400 people could come. They don’t have an opening act. They’re not even known enough to _be_ an opening act.”  

“Oh wow,” Luke gasps. It makes sense with how small the club is, but it’s still weird to hear it said like that. “So are we like, indie or something?”  

The crowd absolutely screams as the band starts walking onto the stage, but he can still hear Michael's laughter over it, his eyes lighting up. “Who _are_ you? I feel like I’m showing you a whole new world right now.”

“Honestly, you are.”

“I’m glad to be the one that gets to.”

Luke grins, his teeth pulling the corner of his lip into his mouth. The music starts to play, pulling Michael's attention away, but Luke still whispers, “me too,” not caring if it’s heard or not.

He watches for a minute, can see the moment Michael slips into the music, can see the way he loosens up as the band starts singing. It’s nice, a side of Michael that he knows he's seen before, but just like everything else, it feels like the first time.

The music is fine. Luke doesn’t find himself completely sinking into it, but he definitely enjoys himself, swaying along and catching onto the choruses, yelling them with everyone else in the crowd. It feels weird at first, like he's an intruder and that everyone can tell that he isn’t a true fan of the band, but with the way Michael smiles as he tries his hardest, grabbing his hand and holding it in the air, Luke couldn’t care less about the other people.

Each songs bleeds into the next, and the only times Luke truly knows when a song is over is when the band stops for a moment to talk to the crowd. It’s not his type of music, is the thing, but he still enjoys being there, still loves the feeling of 400 people being there with him for the same reason, of blending into the crowd and just _feeling_.

The stories being told onstage are interesting as well, the band speaking honestly about the struggles they went through to play their music their way. They don’t hold back with some of the more shameful details, embracing them instead, and it makes it all the more interesting and worth listening to.

Michael's truly in his element here, he's smiling, and yelling along with the lyrics as he jumps around, his hands in the air and all around him. That’s what makes it all special, Luke thinks. It’s a nice show, the music isn't bad, and he's having a good time, but what makes it special, what makes it better than any night out Luke’s had this week is that Michael's there, and he's happy.

And that’s all that matters.

When the band stops playing again to give a small introduction into the next song and the background on it, Michael turns to Luke, pulling his attention with a soft hand on the curve of his back. “You having fun, Princess?”  

“I am actually,” he answers, smiling widely as he turns towards Michael. “I’ve never been to a concert before, but this is really nice.”

“You’ve never been to a concert before? Not one?”

Michael sounds shocked, looking more interested in Luke than what’s going on onstage. It makes something warm settle in Luke’s chest. “I’m not a big music fan,” he replies honestly, “Like, I love U2 and Alanis and all, but I’ve never really gotten into it as a passion or anything.”

“That’s a shame, really,” Michael has to yell a little bit to speak over the music that’s started up again. They’re still talking onstage, but it’s clearly leading into a song. “I’ve never felt more in my element than when I’m surrounded by music.”

“That’s how I feel with art.”

“So we both have our passions?”

The music gets too loud to talk over after that, so Luke just nods his head in response, giggling slightly, just because. They both turn their attention back to the music, enjoying the show. He doesn’t know how long the setlist is, but he's doesn’t really care. The room is stuffy and the guy behind him is bumping into him a lot, but he finds himself not caring, feels more encouraged to jump around than complain.

The music calms down after a few harder songs, and Luke’s thankful for the break, for the opportunity to just sway with Michael, glow sticks in the air as they feel the music. It gives him a moment to cool down, and it gives his ears a rest. This song acoustic and a lot better for him.

“That’s what I want,” Michael tells him, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder as he looks fondly up at the stage. “That’s where I want to be. Everything I’m doing, everything I’ve been through — I just wanna be on a stage, with a loving crowd singing my songs back to me.”

Luke smiles, kissing his forehead and speaking with his lips against Michael's skin. “It’s going to happen. I know it is.”

Michael picks his head up from Luke’s shoulder, facing him completely as he tucks his glow stick in his pocket. “I know things didn’t start off great, and our dates were a bit of a mess, but…” he trails off. He shakes his head, looking back into Luke’s eye and boldly continuing. “Well I didn’t let that stop me from taking you out again because I really like you. And I was wondering if you would like, want to be my boyfriend? Or something like that.”

“I…” he wants to say yes, wants to be able to call Michael _his_ , but, “I leave in three months.”

“I know!” Michael responds, voice raised slightly and attracting the attention of the people next to them. They ignore it and he continues, “I thought about that, and we do have an expiration date. You have university and I'm leaving for Broome or Adelaide or Melbourne or wherever I’m going next.”

“Then why - ”

“I really like you,” Michael answers before Luke can ask. He's smiling and there’s not a trace of hesitance anywhere. “And just because we won’t be together forever doesn’t mean we can’t make this summer last. I really like you, and I’d love to put a label on it. So what do you say?”

“I… Yes, of course.”

They’re both smiling and laughing, and it’s the best moment of Luke’s life if he's being honest. He's not sure who leans in first, but soon their lips are meeting gently, parting as they share their first kiss as an official couple. Luke’s heart is soaring.  

“Alright, everyone,” The band interrupts their kiss, speaking loudly to the crowd. “It’s our last song of the night. Go crazy!”

They start playing, and the bass is pounding through the room. Half of the crowd is throwing their bodies around in excitement while the rest of them are leaving the venue, probably hoping to beat the rush. Luke is tempted to try that but -

“Wanna see something insane?”

Luke looks to where Michael is grinning, lips lifting up far enough that his eyes are almost slits. He's skeptical when he answers, “I’m actually not sure that I do?”

“You sure you wanna miss out on seeing something absolutely incredible?” he asks, voice teasing, but the look in his eye insists that it’s entirely up to Luke. “It’s just like earlier. It’s now or never.”

He thinks for a minute, already loving that Michael's asking for his permission to do something that probably has nothing to do with Luke. “Yeah,” he grins, knowing already that he's absolutely gone. “Go crazy.”

Before he acts on his words, Michael leans over and slides his lips against Luke’s. It does a great job at taking Luke’s mind off of the confusion and anticipation over what Michael's thinking to do, but as he pulls away, it only has Luke wanting more.

They _are_ officially boyfriends, after all.

Luke doesn’t get the opportunity to lean in and reinitiate the kiss because Michael runs off, somehow managing to go full speed through the thinning crowd, and — Luke stares in shock — launches himself onto the stage. The platform is only about four feet off the ground, so it doesn’t look too difficult, Michael's feet hanging off the edge for just a moment before he gains his traction and hops all the way up.

Everyone cheers as he's doing so, the people behind Luke putting their hands on his shoulder as they cheer for Michael, and… that’s his _boyfriend_ up there, racing over to where the lead singer is standing, shaking his head as a smile graces his face, but he doesn’t kick Michael offstage, instead he continues to sing as Michael jumps around next to him. It’s ridiculous, and Luke can’t believe he's watching it happen in real time.

It only serves to get even more wild when other people charge the stage as well, copying Michael's move and joining the band onstage. They’re all up there dancing to the music and having the time of their lives. Luke can’t keep the smile off of his face, and it only gets bigger when even the bassist goes along with it, pulling Michael next to him and having him sing along along in the microphone.

The crowd goes wild as his voice is heard over the main singer’s, but it fades out when the other fans onstage copy again and soon all fifteen or so people onstage are singing along to the music, dancing, and laughing. It feels special, like it’s a moment he's always going to remember.

As the song and the show come to an end, Luke is screaming and laughing and cheering. He can’t contain his joy, loving that he came, that he witnessed such an inclusive moment, where every single person in the place felt a part of something great. The lights come up and Luke watches as Michael takes a sharpie out of his pocket and hands it to the bassist.

He signs Michael’s shirt.

The whole night is a success, but there’s one scary moment, as Michael's leaving the stage, where someone bumps into him and he almost tumbles off the stage. The people watching gasp, but the man that bumped him grabs his arm before he can fall. He carefully helps him off the stage, and Michael weaves his way through the even thinner crowd.

Luke rushes over to him immediately, cheeks red and skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. “Oh my god, you’re insane,” he’s laughing, not knowing how to react but giddy off of the moment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” Michael answers, laughing along as he grabs Luke’s hand and follows the crowd towards the exit. “Almost shit myself at the end, but I’m fine.”

“You could’ve died,” Luke has to bring up. “Feel my chest, my heart is beating so fast.”

“I’m fine. Everything is okay.”

“Barely!”

“Hey, don’t get too caught up in it.”

“I - ” Luke doesn’t know what to say, but as he looks down at Michael, the black marker showing boldly on his white shirt, he can’t help but wonder - “You had that marker in your pocket. Did you plan on doing that the whole time?”

“Of course I did.”

“Of course you did,” he rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “You’re insane, Michael, you nearly brained yourself! Do you do stuff like this often?”

Michael shrugs, grin still on his face, eyes dancing in the light. “Life is boring without risks, Princess. I like to live dangerously.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be worried about you hurting yourself more often than I originally thought.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Michael warns. They’re exiting the first part of the club, heading into the area to buy drinks and it’s already a thousand times better, the air much clearer. “By the end of the summer, I’m going to have you facing your biggest fears with me.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

Michael bumps his shoulder into Luke’s. “I’m gonna try,” he fights. “If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen, but I’m definitely going to try.” Luke wouldn’t mind that, he thinks. When Michael's with him he feels like he can do anything, like there aren’t any limits to what he can do or where he can go. “Did you have fun?”

“You know,” Luke considers, “I really did. I think I may have to come to another one of these concerts in the future. Might have to rush the stage myself.”

“Now that’s something I’d love to see!” They finally make it out the door, Michael's hand tightening in Luke’s not letting him head over to his car. “Let me walk you home?” he offers.

Luke points over to the parking lot with his free hand. “I brought my car,” he reasons. “I could give you a ride home?”

“Is it still the dirtiest vehicle in the world?”

“It is, yeah.”

“Then that sounds perfect.” Michael kisses Luke lightly on the lips and they head over to the car, If this were a movie, the screen would fade to black and everything would be happy ever after. But it’s not, the world is still colored, and now Luke has to crack this whole “boyfriend” thing.


	2. We Run Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you were a stripper, your name would be Velvet Magic,” Michael says casually, his hand toying mindlessly just beneath the surface of the water._
> 
> _Luke laughs instantly, happy that his boyfriend is so good at keeping things light, at keeping their heads clear. “And why is that?”_
> 
> _“Well that's what I call your tongue, so.”_

****The morning after the concert, Luke finds himself on cloud nine. He wakes up feeling light as a feather and full of sunshine, a happiness he's become accustomed to every time he's been with Michael — only now it’s much more intense.

He's the first one awake in the house and decides to use his time making breakfast for his family — toaster waffles with fresh fruit alongside a hot pot of coffee as that's all he can make. Liz and Andy don't fall too far behind, both greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head respectively before taking a seat across from each other at the table.

As the food cooks, Luke stacks a previously empty plate with the waffles and places it on the center of the table along with a bottle of maple syrup. Liz eyes the food with appreciation, already reaching forward with his fork to claim one. “These look delicious, sweetheart, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Luke eyes the table as his parents serve themselves, double checking he didn't forget anything. “Anybody want raspberries? Dad?”

“No thank you,” he waves Luke off, already taking a bite. “I’ll stick with just syrup.”

Luke nods, but decides to pull them out regardless just in case. He then takes a seat at the table, stacking his own plate with the hot food and drizzling some syrup on top.

“Do you have any plans for today, Luke?” Liz waits until he's swallowed up his first bite to ask. “I was thinking of weeding the garden, and I was hoping to get your help.”

“I’m free as a bird — nothing on my schedule at all.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Luke doesn't want to think about how relieved his mom looks. Thinking back, he realizes he's not been home very often, and when he has been, he hasn't been entirely there. Either on the phone with Michael or getting ready to see Michael, this past month has been a whirlwind of a green-eyed god, and only now has he thought to feel guilty.

Andy must've had the same thought process. He clears his throat, “You’ve been busy lately, I’ve noticed. It seems that once Ashton came back to town you’ve been out nearly every day.”

Luke's too afraid to brave a look at their faces, not wanting to see any disappointment that may be there. He stares down at his food instead, fork sitting loosely in his hand. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, sweetheart!” Liz's voice rushes to reassure. “As nice as it is to have you back home, we were worried that you were becoming a hermit.”

Luke snaps his gaze to his mom, offended. “I wasn’t becoming a hermit!”

“You hardly went out.”

“I went out plenty.”

Liz isn't convinced, the flat look on her face saying she's probably internally counting the amount of times Luke stepped foot outside the house. On Luke's left, Andy laughs. “To get groceries - ”

"He brought you lunch that once,” Liz points out.

“Oh, yes!” Andy's eyes light up as they meet his wife’s across the table. "He brought me lunch.”

Luke pouts. “I also went to a party.”

“Sweetheart,” Liz says. “Andy had to force you out of the house for that.”

Luke huffs. He knows he's being prickly, but he wasn't staying home on his own accord. He was just _waiting_ for something interesting to happen. The fact that it all occured at once isn't because he decided to stop staying at home — it's because he was finally given the opportunity of something to do. His parents’ teasing just makes him sound a bit pathetic.

Sensing Luke's sour face, Liz tuts. “Oh we’re just teasing, dear. You were never at risk to become a hermit. And we love having you around the house. We’ve missed just sitting down for breakfast and being together as a family.”

“We wish we could do it more often,” Andy agrees. His hand rubs gently at Luke's shoulder before falling away.

“Once you graduate and begin applying to firms around here, we’ll get to do this more often though.”

The table falls silent after Liz's words, and Luke's stomach clenches tightly. At this point in his life, the word ‘lawyer’ has an instant effect on Luke, making him feel sick to his stomach with the knowledge that he's keeping such a big secret from his parents. He wasn't eating much before, but now he couldn't if he was paid to, the guilt filling him up so tightly. He wants to say something now, knows that this is the perfect time to.

Yet the words can't find their way up.

“Can’t believe it’s your final year, Luke,” Andy says after the quiet has filled the room comfortably for a bit. “It feels like just yesterday you were applying to university. Hard to believe you’re almost done.”

“My baby - ” Liz's words are choked up, cutting off her sentence with the beginnings of crying before she has a chance to say much.

“Mom - ”

“Liz - ”

“I’m alright, ‘s alright,” Liz stops Andy and Luke's simultaneous pleadings. “Not going to cry that easy.”

Andy laughs around the bite he's just taken, swallowing before joking, “Wouldn’t be the first time, love.”

“Exactly.” Liz wraps her hands around the mug in front of her, the coffee still steaming. “I need to be stronger about this. My youngest is about to be a lawyer. I need to get _myself_ a lawyer.”

It takes a lot for Luke to even consider saying something, but he sets his feet firmly on the ground, places his fork flat on the table, and takes a deep breath. “You know - ”

“I was - ” Liz starts speaking at the same time as Luke, and the both cease their words. “Sorry love. What was that?”

Just like that, all of Luke's confidence has flown away. The nerve he's been building up for the past three years or so has vanished, and he's left sitting in his kitchen, waffles all but forgotten on his plate, cursing himself for not just saying something the very moment he considered changing his major.

“No, you go first,” Luke insists, a broken sigh coming out alongside it.

Liz watches Luke's face for a moment before continuing his words from earlier. “I was speaking with Francine Milner the other day, and she said her nephew is doing a summer internship at Thorneycroft. You may want to consider applying for one in the winter when you come home for your holiday.”

“Right.” If he were still feeling some of the power from only moments ago, now would be another amazing chance to spill the beans, but every opportunity he's had has been beaten down. At this point, Luke just feels defeated. “That’s a good idea.”

True to the caring mother she is, Liz must hear the resignation and exhaust from Luke and is immediately concerned. “You _are_ coming home for your birthday, aren’t you?”

Even now, Luke knows there’ve been nothing but prime opportunities to just say what he needs to, to confess. Even now, there's still some wiggle room. If he just says it and gets it over with, he won't have to keep digging himself deeper and making empty promises. And yet all that he can come up with is a bold-faced lie.

“I was considering staying,” he mumbles, picking his fork up so he doesn't have to make eye contact. “But I know I’ll regret it if I do. I’ll stop by Thorneycroft sometime this week and ask about it. Make sure I’ve got all the information I need.”

Liz smiles, none the wiser to the immense war battling itself in Luke's conscious. “I’m glad to hear that, love.”

Luke feels like absolute garbage for being so fake with his family. He's had more than enough chances, but he just hasn’t been able to go through with it.

He smiles back, completely plastic, and takes a bite of his syrup-soaked breakfast.

He tastes nothing.

They sit together as a family, eating their food quietly, the only sounds being Andy's humming and Liz's gentle sips of her coffee. It only lasts five minutes or so before there's a knock at the door, making everybody look up from what’s been occupying their time.

“It’s only just gone 9,” Andy comments, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looks up at the clock on the wall. “Who could that be?”

“It’s probably Ashton.” Luke sets his fork down and pushes himself away from the table. “I’ll grab it.”

“Nonsense,” Andy flaps his hand once, pushing his own chair out. He wipes his mouth as he says, “You’ve barely eaten anything. I can answer that.”

“Please invite him in for a bite to eat,” Liz asks of him.

“Of course.”

Andy’s gone to answer it, so Luke scoops some raspberries onto his plate, glad that he'd thought to grab them from the kitchen earlier. Seeing Luke spooning the fruit onto his plate, Liz reaches her hand out, so Luke passes the bowl over.

“There was a young man at the door claiming to know our Luke,” Andy says when he comes back into the kitchen just as Luke's taking another bite of his food. “But I’ve never seen him before.”

Confused by the amusement in his voice, Luke turns in his chair to see Andy standing next to Michael. His _boyfriend_ Michael. The shock of it has Luke choking on his waffle. Michael just grins at the reaction, eyes crinkling at the sight.

“Luke?” Liz asks, placing her hand on Luke's shoulder. “You alright, sweetheart?”

Luke nods quickly, coughing as he reaches for the glass of water sitting in front of him.

Michael clears his throat, but Luke isn't convinced — he can hear the slight chuckle his boyfriend is trying to mask. “I didn’t mean to disturb you during breakfast, sorry.”

“You’re alright, love,” Liz assures him. “Would you like to join us?”

Luke would love to be able to give Michael an affirmation, to insist that he's more than welcome to join them for breakfast, but just as Michael looks to Luke, he's got his glass of water near tipped towards the ceiling. “Oh, I couldn’t intrude. I just came by to speak to Luke, I wouldn’t want to disrupt you all.”

“Nonsense,” Liz refuses to let him go. She stands up and pulls out the chair across from Luke. “Come take a seat.”

Michael looks hesitant, but Luke’s lowered his now empty glass and gives him a reassuring smile.

“I suppose a bite couldn’t hurt.” Michael walks around the table and takes a seat as Liz sets a plate in front of him, before returning to her own seat. Michael reaches out with his fork in hand for the last two waffles. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

Liz hums excitedly. “Oh so _you’re_ Michael.” he turns to Andy, and nods her head in Michael's direction. "He was the one calling for Luke a week or two back.” Facing Michael, she says, “It’s lovely to put a face to the name.”

“With you as well. And thank you all for inviting me in.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Andy's plate is empty by now, and he'd never grabbed coffee in the first place. Luke guesses he doesn't have any plans to leave the table any time soon, not with their new guest. “So how do you know our Luke. I don’t believe we saw you over when he was in school.”

Michael swallows the bite he's just taken before shaking his head. “No, no, I just moved here. Luke and I - ”

He turns to Luke, eyes almost panicked, as though he'd nearly said something wrong, and doesn't know where to go. Luke gets it, he does. Not everyone is great about boys who like boys, especially the older generations. Michael's worry isn't unwarranted, not in the least, and realizing he'd yet to say anything since his arrival, Luke explains, “He's my boyfriend.”

Michael's eyes widen, no doubt shocked at the confidence in which Luke’d just told his parents, but Liz coos, “Oh, that’s lovely!” She aims a genuinely sweet smile at Michael then turns to Luke, dropping her grin and hitting her son lightly on the shoulder. “How could you not tell us you had a boyfriend? I have half the mind to ground you right now.”

“We just made it official last night,” Michael explains on Luke’s behalf after letting out a laugh of disbelief. "He was probably just working up the nerve to tell you.”

The real reason was that he was stitched tight with guilt about his major, and the idea of sharing his newly began relationship with his parents and hearing their excitement was too much good for how bad he'd been feeling about lying to them.

Though telling his mom that was just as bad as spilling the beans on his major. So he merely nodding along and pointed at Michael. “Yes, that’s it.”

“You know, Liz,” Andy brings up, eyeing Luke with a realization. “I thought he was holding in a secret earlier. Something seemed off.”

“Something was off, alright,” his wife snapped back. “My baby was hiding an entire boyfriend behind his back. I thought we could tell each other everything.”

Luke's stomach sinks. “Mom.”

Across the table, Michael is smiling into his food, taking enjoyment out the show. He doesn’t notice the turmoil Luke’s facing.

“You know…” Liz continues, ignoring Luke. “I think I’d like to get to know Michael. Where he's from, what he does in his freetime. I’ll even share some facts about you. Why don’t you go ahead and start weeding the garden?”

“ _Mom_ \- ”

“Go, Luke.” he says. “I won’t tell you again.”

“But Michael came here to speak to me. I’m sure he doesn’t - ”

“I just left Ashton’s Walkman in your car last night,” Michael explains. The smug grin he's wearing saying he loves watching every minute of Luke's demise. "He was asking for it back, but I’m not in a rush; I have some time to talk to your mom.”

“You heard the man. Now go do your gardening.”

Luke huffs, stomping out of the kitchen. He turns back and sees his mom smiling at Michael, and Michael blushing in return. Luke may be upset, embarrassed, and still feeling guilty as hell, but watching Michael and his mom together makes him think he could watch that face forever.  

☀

The night before Michael's set to play at a pub in Kingswood, Luke finds himself sat at the bar with his boyfriend, nursing something fruity as they do “recon.”

Or so Michael had explained it.

He wanted to get a look at it on a busy night to prepare for performing and to get a feel of the patron atmosphere. Luke was just there for the alcohol (also the endless support for his radiant, wonderful, magnanimous, talented boyfriend).  

“It's weird, you know?” Michael's been oddly silent the entire time. Take as many chances as possible to look everywhere he possibly could in the pub. It’d given Luke enough time to start feel a buzz, and Michael’d gotten to scope out the venue. “Being in a pub and _not_ performing. Don't think I'm quite used to this.”

“But isn't it nice?” Luke asks. He's been relaxing into the music playing over the speakers, and his second drink of the night is just about done.

“How do you mean?”

Though Luke usually speaks slowly, the alcohol and the atmosphere in the mix have him more languid than usual. “You don't have to worry about it or anything. You can just enjoy a drink and not be working up your confidence.”

Michael smiles and Luke finds himself returning the gesture easily. “That's never an issue for me.”

“It's not?”

Behind where they're both sitting at the bar, there's a hen party chatting excitedly and breaking out into group laughs every few seconds. Michael keeps shooting them amused glances, laughing alongside them into his beer as he does.

“Not at all.” Michael's eyes have a shine to them, one that always seems to be present any time the topic of music comes up in conversation. “I'm so in love with being on the stage. It’s the home I never had.”

Luke's never been able to be onstage, himself. Not whilst performing, at least. He's always loved the idea of singing or acting, but he'd never been able to stand in front of a crowd and just… be. “I wish I had that confidence.”

“Don't you?” Michael's question has Luke sitting up straighter. Confused on how he'd ever shown confidence in a way that could compete with Michael's utter fearlessness. “With your art, I mean. Don't you love the feeling you get when you display your work for the world to see.”

“Well that's a bit different.”

“I don't think it is.” Michael says it with such fervor that Luke almost doesn't want to say different.

But he swallows the last of his drink and turns so his entire body is facing Michael. “With my art there's this wall of anonymity. I can let my work speak for itself, exist as its own separate thing.”

“Which is exactly how it is with music,” Michael argues, and Luke couldn't agree less. “Sure, I may be the one singing, but the song is its own separate entity. It's completely apart from myself.”

“Is it though?” Luke asks, the alcohol letting some sarcasm lace his tone that has Michael rolling his eyes.

“Completely.”

The hen party behind them suddenly goes silent and Michael's eye draws straight to them. In turning, Luke sees one of the bridesmaids — the maid of honor, if the sash he's wearing holds any truth — standing up with a shot glass in one hand and a spoon shaped like a -

“Oh my god,” Luke whispers, a laugh coming out as well as he notices the phallic-shaped piece of silverware in the woman’s hand.

The maid of honor taps the spoon to the shot glass, attracting the attention of most everybody in the pub. “Hello,” she greets them all. “Tomorrow, my best friend in the world is getting married to my brother. And though of course they wouldn't have been my first choice for each other growing up, I can see now how absolutely brilliant they are together.” Luke lets himself _aww_ with the other patrons of the pub. “Could I get all you strangers in here to toast my best friend, Jade?”

The patrons cheer and drink as the hen party clinks their glasses together. Luke doesn't have any of his drink left, so he mimes drinking along, loving that Michael giggles when he does.

The maid of honor sits back down, the toast being over, so Luke turns in his seat until he's completely facing Michael again, thinking back to their past conversation. “When you hear _Thriller_ , who comes to mind?”

“Michael Jackson,” Michael answers, eyebrows crinkling in confusion to the seemingly out of nowhere question.

“And when you hear _Pray_?”

Michael catches on, Luke can tell by the sigh in his answer. “Take That, but - ”

“You see?” Luke cuts him off. “Their emotion is being expressed through their music, but their music is shown through them. My art is on a canvas, but you _are_ your art’s canvas.”

Michael stays silent for a moment, eyes watching Luke with interest. “Wow, Hemmings. That was deep.”

Luke grins, a stupid smile that he can feel is bringing his dimple out. “Shut up. Why can't you be serious.”

“I'm plenty serious.” He sounds offended, but the laugh alongside his words tells a different story. “You're just not used to fun.”

“I'm plenty fun!” Luke mocks Michael wording. “You've never once been near me and not had fun.”

“But is that because of you or because of me?” Michael smirks, a _checkmate_ if Luke’s every seen one.

Thinking back, Luke can see where he's coming from. Most of the spontaneous ridiculous and just plain _fun_ things have been because of Michael — not that Luke hadn’t been a equal conspirator. It’s just that Michael was the brains behind the plans, and Luke worked off of Michael's energy the whole time.

“You're telling me I can’t be fun.” Luke can be fun, he knows. It’s not easy to come up with insane things to do when he's dating someone who’s so much better than him at it.

“I’m not saying that _per_ _say_ , I’m - ”

“Um,” the maid of honor from earlier says, her voice loud as though he's going to make another toast. Michael and Luke turn around as he's standing up. “It appears we have some party goers that are _boring_ and ending their night early.” Some of the girls at the table try to speak up, but the maid of honor holds her finger up as though he's heard enough from them. “If any of you want to join our scavenger hunt, we’re short about 5 people.”

Luke knows before he's finished talking that they’re both going to join in. He just has to come up with the idea before Michael says something, else he's just going to be riding his boyfriend’s coattails and he has something to prove, _dammit_.

“You wanna see fun?” he asks, brow cocked in an invitation.

“Do - ”

Luke stands up, effectively cutting off whatever Michael was going to say, and raises his hand high. “We'll join!”

“Perfect!” The maid of honor waves them over, and Luke checks to see if Michael's in, only to see his boyfriend shaking his head with a grin. Luke will take it as a win.

They walk over to the maid of honor who’s sorting through a stack of pink and purple sashes. Luke makes sure to grab Michael hand and leads the walk. This is his idea, his fun adventure, and he wants to drive.

“Alright, what are your names? We need to add you to the roster.” They all introduce themselves to each other and then are shown the different colored sashes the maid of honor is holding in each hand. “Are you alright to play on different teams, loves?”

Part of Luke wants to say no and stay by Michael's side all night, but then he sees his boyfriend’s wicked grins and realizes he wants another win. “I think we’re good with a bit of healthy competition.”

The maid of honor laughs as Michael pulls his hand free of Luke’s jokingly. “You two are cute. How long’ve you been together?”

Luke goes to answer but Michael interrupts before he can so much as open his mouth. “Oh, it’s just casual.”

“Hm.” She hums, seeming to not like the answer, and Luke’s on the exact same page as her. “Well, here you go.”

Luke takes the pink sash from her hand and Michael gets purple. The maid of honor walks to where another girl, possibly another contender, is standing. He leaves the couple standing there, Luke about ready to storm away. He can’t believe Michael just called them _casual_.

“You ready, Princess?” Michael asks.

“Why did you say that?”

Michael's eyes snap towards Luke’s and he looks confused. “Say what? That it’s casual?” Luke nods, making it evident that _casual_ isn’t what he wanted to hear at all. “Well, we only have until the end of the summer.”

“But we’re still boyfriends,” he says. “It doesn’t matter how temporary it is.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael apologizes immediately, voice soft but words sincere. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“You’re the one that put a label to this, Michael.” he knows Michael never meant any harm with his words, but there’s a piece of Luke that feels hurt. “Don’t ask me to be your boyfriend if you’re only going to belittle what we have.”

Michael nods, agreeing immediately. “You’re right, Princess. I handled it poorly.”

“You did.”

They get quiet. Luke puts his sash on, and Michael follows, going much slower as he does. Luke doesn’t want to stay mad, doesn’t want an argument to ruin his first win of their relationship. He puts it all behind him and tells himself that Michael never met any harm, and they _do_ have an expiration date at the end of summer. It’s not Luke’s fault he keeps pushing the thought down.

“You sure you still want to do this?” Michael checks in when his sash is secure. He looks cautious and Luke wants to change that.

“Of course I am,” he grins. “I’m fun, and I’m going to kick your ass trying to prove it.”

Michael laughs, soft and melodious. “I really like you, Luke.” It’s more than just a reaction to Luke’s spontaneity, it’s a silent apology for making it seem as though he didn’t, and Luke hears it for what it is.

“Let’s see if you’re still saying that when you lose.”

Without waiting for a response, Luke turns and walks over to the girls who are wearing the pink sashes matching his. The group includes the bride, Jade, and Luke makes a point to thank her for allowing them to join. He turns to check on Michael, to see his boyfriend in the midst of a group huddle.

They take off in their scavenger hunt, and it’s all a blur of local businesses, polaroid pictures, and the occasional heckling when they cross paths with the purple team. In the end, the pink team wins by only three minutes, and Michael congratulates him. Alone. In the handicap stall of the bathroom.

Every day’s an adventure, and Luke thinks he could do it forever.

☀

Over the course of the summer, Michael and Luke's friends have gotten close. It’s not unusual for Luke to go over to Calum’s house and see Ashton there. Yet when Michael lets him in one hot July morning, he feels off balance to see his best friend stretched across the couch, shirtless, playing on a Nintendo Gameboy with nobody else in sight.

The heat has been insane all day, and it's made Luke tetchy as all hell. He's wanted to do nothing more than sit in front of a fan and feel the cold air blowing on him. Spending time with his boyfriend ultimately won out against the plan, and while he always enjoys Michael's company, it didn't do much to make him less prickly.

Michael leaves Luke at the door to run upstairs, and Luke has no choice but to walk into the living room where Ashton is still unaware of Luke's presence. He looks up finally when he hears Luke footsteps and smiles.

“Luke!” he greets enthusiastically as he sits up. “I missed you, man. What are you doing here?”

For a reason he can't explain (though it's more than likely the heat), Luke feels bothered to see his best friend almost more comfortable than himself in Michael's temporary home. “I came by to see my wonderful boyfriend who happens to be staying here. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Calum invited me over,” he explains. And while any other time, Luke wouldn't've even cared about Ashton’s being there, the fact that he's so relaxed and welcomed even without Luke there, it makes him upset that he wasn't asked along as well. It has him feeling left out. “We've been trying to think something to do.” Ashton’s ever positive attitude keeps him from seeing Luke's discontent with everything, and just further pushes Luke into his bad mood

“Why wasn't I invited?” Luke asks.

Ashton’s eyebrows raise. “Weren't you?”

“No, I wasn't.”

He laughs and flaps his hand at Luke. “Obviously you were.” He lies back down on the couch, making himself comfortable again. “Michael asked you to come over and now you are. Welcome to the party.”

Luke goes to say something, but he can't think of anything that'd make much sense. Logically, he knows that Michael's invite had to have been for them all to hang out as a group — a group that Ashton is rightfully a part of — but a small bit of him still wants to throw a fit, and he knows exactly why.

It’s the damn _heat_.

It doesn't help that just a few moments later, Calum comes into the room, and already the temperature starts to rise. Luke's sweating as he stands still and his hair is sticking slickly to his forehead.

“Luke!” Calum cheers loudly as he enters the room, reaching his arms out and and pulling Luke into a hug. It's something he'd usually melt into, but now he just needs some space. When Calum lets go, it’s something of a miracle, the instant relief he feels. “Glad you could make it, man. We were just about to think up some shit to do!” He turns to where Ashton’s sitting, his game long since forgotten. “You ready to finish the fight?”

“It wasn't a fight - ”

“It _was_ a fight,” Calum insists, cutting off Ashton before he could even start. “And we need to finish, but you’re stubborn and won't concede your point.”

Luke's confused about what could cause such animosity from Calum, a guy who's been nothing but positive since they'd met. “What was the fight about?”

Ashton groans at Luke's question and stretches out across the sofa. “Don't get him started.”

“Thank you for asking, Luke!” Calum wraps his arm around Luke's shoulder, and Luke can already feel the sweat forming between their skin. He's miserable. “There's a new single out by Supergrass. It came out _today_ and it's never been on the radio before. Ashton here thinks he heard the song in a dream or some shit - ”

“I didn't _say_ that!” He's still lying back on the couch, his feet kicked up on the arm. His voice insistent in his point, but his body language is a lot more relaxed. “I said I thought they might have stolen the tune from a local band.”

“Well if he's heard the song before - ”

“Then it's because I have their album and Ashton’s had my fucking walkman for a month!” Calum’s yelling pulls him away from Luke and towards Ashton, which does wonders to slightly relieve Luke from the intense heat.

Still not sitting up, or tensing up, or doing much else than leaning back, Ashton groans. “I haven't listened to that one yet, Cal! I'm telling you I've heard the track before.”

“Record stores play albums all the time, Ashton!” Calum's voice is getting higher, louder. Luke's wondering how he hasn't had a noise complaint yet. “They didn't steal the fucking - ”

“Shut the fuck up, my god.” Michael comes running down the stairs, face twisted in annoyance. “We have a guest, you two.”

Ashton scoffs, “ _I'm_ a guest too,” but his words doesn't hold much power with how comfortable he's made himself.

“Then go yell in your own home,” Michael bites, saddling up next to Luke despite the suffocating heat in the crowded room. “I brought my boyfriend over to hang out with my friends, but I think I might just take Luke into town and away from your fighting instead.”

“How are you going to get there, smart ass?” Calum’s got a mile-wide smirk on his face. The only thing to make him look more of a prick would be is if he were chewing gum. “You don't have a car.”

Michael laughs and points to Luke. “Luke does.”

But Luke's not paying much attention. At this point, all that he has running through his mind is how there's no use in even wearing a shirt as it's completely soaked through. He's confused at the purpose of even getting together if all they were going to do was yell and sweat.

“So you're just - ”

“Give it a rest, Hood.” Michael kicks out and just misses hitting Calum’s shins. “Just stop your fight and pick something to do today. It's like a million degrees in here and everytime you talk the hot air amps up the temperature.”

“Go fuck yourself, Clifford.”

Michael smirks, hand falling down Luke's shoulder to squeeze at his waist. “I don't really need to be doing that anymore, do I?”

Luke's flushed, not sure if it's from the heat or from Michael's joke, but his entire face is positively florid with it.

“We could go to the rec center,” Ashton offers after the room's gone silent for a bit. “They have footie games all summer that anyone can join.”

Michael scoffs, hand gripping tighter at Luke's side. “I just said it's a million degrees out. I don't want to sweat.”

Ashton frowns, a tiny pout of a thing, and they all go back to thinking. Or more accurately, everyone else goes back to thinking — Luke's not been able to process much other than the sweat that's making the denim of his shorts stick to his thighs, and how good it would feel to take off his boots.

He doesn't know how anybody is surviving right now. Calum's got on trousers that must be two sizes too big, and Michael's wearing a windbreaker and jeans — even Ashton,the only one sensible enough to be shirtless, has his socks pulled up too his shin. Luke can’t bear to look at anybody without worrying about the early signs of heatstroke.  

“The rec has a pool,” Calum says, and Luke's ears immediately perk up. Going swimming is about the only thing in the world that'd make him feel better

“Closed down.” In just two words, Ashton’s broken Luke's heart. “There isn't enough security this year and someone was caught getting high in the chemical closet, so they shut the entire west wing down for the summer.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Thats a no to the rec center then.”

“There's air conditioning in the senior room,” Ashton tries to bargain. “They could always use volunteers.”

Luke's volunteered with Ashton there before, and it doesn't require much more than helping them with puzzles or listening to them tell stories — both of which Luke absolutely loves doing. To be in air conditioning as he does it, well -

“Ashton, you're clearly a very good person,” Calum says, not unkindly. “That much is obvious, but…”

“But we aren't good people.” Michael laughs as he picks up from Calum's point. “I'm not spending my summer with a bunch of old people.” Calum shoves Michael’s shoulder, jostling Luke as he does so.

“At least I’m offering something. You’ve done shitall but run your mouth today.”

“It’s summer!” Michael yells back. “We should be going on road trips and sneaking into abandoned warehouses and skinny dipping - ”

“I’m down to skinny dip.”

Luke's eyes immediately widen, thinking maybe he'd heard Calum wrong. He must'nt’ve, though, if Ashton's excited, “There's a pretty big pond on the outskirts of town,” is anything to go by. “If Calum’s not on probation we could head out there.”

“What the fuck would I be on probation for?”

“For being an asshole,” Michael answer Calum’s angry question, laughing, without so much as looking at him.

Calum rolls his eyes. “I'm gonna go grab some some towels, I'll be back in a minute.” He disappears up the stairs, and though it allows more space in the room, more movement in the air, it does nothing to calm Luke's beating heart or to drain the red out of his face.

Next to him, Michael is nearly vibrating with energy. He's standing on his toes, hands now stuffed in his pocket as he grins towards Ashton in excitement. It feels as though everybody is into it except for Luke, and he's nervous as all hell. He touches Michael's arm with two loose fingers. “Are we really…”

Michael turns to him as he trails off. “What was that?”

“I thought you were all joking,” Luke says, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to attract an eavesdropper.

“Joking about what, Princess?”

Luke never gets a chance to explain his worry, or to see if Michael is really as excited about this as he appears. Calum comes running back down the stairs, both of his arms completely loaded up with towels.

“Alright.” Calum takes half of the towels he's carrying and throws them at Michael. “So I figured Ashton can ride with me and Luke can drive his lazy boyfriend around.”

Michael laughs loudly, pulling himself away from Luke with it. His attention is completely taken by Calum, and Luke’s left standing with a million questions running through his head.

“Who are you callin lazy?” Michael asks. “I’ll have you know I walked an entire mile yesterday.”

“You walked four blocks to Luke’s house,” Calum corrects. “You didn’t even walk home.”

“And how far did you walk?”

Luke can see how lighthearted everything is, can tell that everyone is truly looking forward to going out and skinny dipping, but all that Luke can think about is all of his friends seeing him naked. He's never been ashamed of his body, never been one to cover up because he felt self-conscious, but the heat has already put him in a bad space. The last thing he wants is to make it worse by having people he isn’t intimate with seeing every bit of him.

On the couch, Ashton stands up and begins to stretch. “I want to ride with Michael in Luke’s disgusting car. Calum’s in a feisty mood today, and I wouldn’t feel safe with him.”

“Fine by me.” Calum shrugs, not looking the least bit bothered. “I can drive alone. Listen to the radio. Maybe I'll hear Supergrass!”

“Oh shove it.”

“Gladly,” Calum all but cackles. “Are you ready, though?”

“Not like I need a swimsuit, is it?”

His comment has Luke’s stomach coiling tightly, but Calum just laughs. “Right you are.”

It’s clear by now that Luke’s the only person showing as much as even just hesitation about skinny dipping. It feels like everything is rushing past him and he's still stuck at the first moment he walked in the house. He's clearly operating on a different, much lower, level than everybody else.

Ashton and Calum head to the door, laughing along the way like they’re all not about to be exposed to each other. Michael makes a move to go as well, but Luke stops him with a hand on his wrist. Immediately, the excited smile he's sporting falls slightly into a look of concern. “Alright, Princess?”

“Yeah, I just -”

“You have been quiet today.” He's eyeing Luke, like he's trying to see more than just what’s on the surface.

“I thought it was just supposed to be you and me today.”

Michael smiles and rolls his eyes playfully. “I thought so too but then Ashton popped by. I figured we hadn’t seen our friends very much lately. Thought we ought to humor them.”

It makes sense, and Luke has no issue in seeing all of his friends, he just wishes it was on a cooler day and they were doing literally anything else. He bites his lip, thinking of something to say, but Michael tracks the movement with worried eyes. “You're not upset, are you, Princess?”

Luke shakes his head but it feels like a lie. “No, no. It's just… skinny dipping, really?”

Though Luke feels like he's dying inside just thinking about what they’re about to do, Michael takes his light tone as a joke and laughs it off. “I know it’s a bit out of nowhere,” he says, “but we’re young. We should do this stuff before our bodies get old and wrinkly.” Luke opens his mouth but Michael continues. “Not that I'll ever find you anything less than flawless.”

“I’m not sure - ”

“Hey!” Calum appears at the doorway. “Get your asses out here! We're ready!” Behind him, Ashton’s leaning against the door of Luke’s unlocked car, laughing at something.

“I’m positive,” Michael picks up. “You're beautiful. Now let's get this show on the road. We can talk in the car.” He grabs Luke’s hand and pulls him out the door.

They don’t get to talk in the car. Ashton’s shoved his head between Luke and Michael and has been talking shit about Supergrass the entire time. Michael entertains him, listening to every rotten thing he has to say, and pitches in when appropriate. Luke can’t find it in him to add to the conversation — he's too busy getting lost in his own head as he follows Calum’s car out of town.

He doesn’t get to bring up his concerns at all, which the real issue. Maybe if the moment they got out of the car, the heat wasn’t overwhelming and torturous, maybe if he had a chance to say what’s concerning him so much about everyone’s idea for a good day… maybe he'd be more comfortable doing it.

Though, he doesn’t see that happening. It’s a horrid combination plaguing his confidence and it has him gripping the steering wheel tightly, blocking out everything going on around him. He wishes he could spend today naked with his boyfriend, and his boyfriend only. He doesn’t need Calum and Ashton ogling his bits.

The drive out of town doesn’t take very long at all, and soon they all find themselves under the hot sun in the clearing between trees, mosquitos and sunshine flying around them. It’s just as awkward as Luke thought it’d be — all of them standing in a circle, discussing rules before they strip down to nothing and share the water.

“No looking should be the first one,” Ashton introduces. He doesn’t look regretful or unwilling to jump in, but Luke notices he seems nervous. “Nothing's scarier than having three other people gawking at your body.”

Michael scoffs from where he's standing opposite Luke in the circle. “Nobody's going to look at your prick, Ash. I'm sure it’s just as average as every other cock in the world.”

“That's a good rule, though,” Luke inputs. It’s his first time contributing something about their activity, but he feels it’s important. He doesn’t want to be here at all, but the idea of being stared at as he does so anyway… “Keeping your eyes to yourself.”

“Don't know if I can keep that promise.” Michael winks at Luke but then laughs his joke off. “Next rule is to keep your hands to yourself. Not sure we want wandering hands.”

Calum nods, ticking each rule off on his fingers. “No taking anyone’s clothes when we're done.”

“ _Don’t_ tell anyone what you saw here today.”

“Jesus, Ashton,” Michael all but cackles. “How weird is your body.”

Ashton doesn’t seem to find any amusement in it. He’s standing stiffly, looking about half as anxious as Luke feels. “Very funny, Michael. Very funny.”

“No, I’m genuinely concerned, like. What’s wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Ashton groans. Though his hands have fallen slack at his sides, he’s anything but relaxed. Luke’s glad he can finally relate to him. “I’m just an important figure in this town.”

“You intern at the radio station.” Michael’s giggling, arms crossed around his middle. “You aren’t even paid. Get bent.”

Before Ashton can come up with a response or Michael can heckle him any further, there’s a small splash in the pond that just barely touches the bank. They all watch the water, not even the least bit surprised when Calum’s head pops up, completely drenched in water, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin Luke’s ever seen, looking refreshed and happy. Meanwhile, Luke’s clothing is sticking to every inch of his body and he feels he's moments away from a breakdown.

Next to Luke in the small circle they’ve formed, Ashton throws his hands up and lets them hit his bare thighs. “You're already in? I thought we were discussing rules!”

“Rules are for fools,” Calum cackles, wiping his eyes as he does so. “I got in so I could watch the show. Who's in next?”

“Rule number one, Hood!” Though Michael's yelling, Luke can’t help but hear how excited he sounds. “Keep your eyes to yourself, you pervert!”

“All I hear is your whining! Just jump in, Mikey. I want to see you in the flesh.”

Michael waves off Calum’s response, but is smiling as he does so. It’s all a big joke for them, Luke realizes. It’s fun, and it may be innocent to the group, but it isn’t something serious. It’s all just an experience they can forget about when it’s over. Luke doesn’t think he'll have that luxury.

It’s more than just the irrepressible discomfort of being in front of his friends, it’s the pressure of having no time to prepare for it, and the heat, that’s now making his breathing just the slightest bit shallow. It all comes together to concoct the perfect brew of anxiety inside of Luke.

Ashton must’ve decided that Calum’s jump into the water means that they’re done with discussing rules as he starts to undress, _right next to Luke_. He's tall, shorter than Luke, but still quite tall, and it levels Luke with his face, meaning he doesn’t have to look at the nudity if he keeps his head up.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t look, they all show him the same respect.

As soon as Ashton’s jeans go down, Calum boos from the pond. In turning, Luke can see he's giving Ashton two thumbs down as well. “Your dick is normal. I was expecting something frightening or at least _curved_.”

Immediately Ashton’s hands cup his groin and he blushes, the red bleeding into his face upwards from his chest. “You weren’t supposed to be looking!” He pulls his boxers back up his legs. He’s still wearing them when he jumps in quickly, waiting until he’s settled in the water to reach down and remove the underwear, throwing it on the bank. It lands a bit from Luke’s feet, and part of him wants to throw it back and tell everyone to act decent -

But that feels just as wrong as being here in the first place.

“My turn then?” It’s just Michael and Luke left standing on dry land. Michael's stripped himself of his shirt and windbreaker, and now he’s got a cocky smile on his face as he toys with his zipper. It seems like they were all just arguing in Calum’s living room moments ago, and now they’re watching as Michael strips his jeans off.

He's got nothing on underneath, and Luke’s brain nearly freezes under the hot sun. It can’t though, not when his head snaps to where Calum’s cheering upon seeing Luke’s _boyfriend_ ’ _s_ uncovered dick. That attention, whilst seemingly alright to Michael, is about to be directed at Luke and he just can’t let that happen.

Once Michael's jeans hit the ground he's running and diving into the pond. He emerges looking radiant and refreshed, and staring right at Luke.

Suddenly _everyone’s_ eyes are on him and the sun seems to have actually turned to ice as he's completely frozen in place.

“Alright Luke!” Calum’s being loud and supportive in the water, clapping his wet hands together. “Show us what you're made of!”

His next move, he supposes, has been building up since before he got to the house. He's not exactly been optimistic and open at any given point today. The heat knocked him on his knees, the arguing pushed him down, and the skinny dipping just kept shoving his face in the dirt. There’s a part of him that’s known since the beginning he wouldn’t be jumping in with his friends.

“You alright, Princess?” Michael's face is painted in concern. “You're pale as ever.”

Instead of answering or explaining how he's feeling or even ignoring it all and unbuttoning his pants and removing his shoes, Luke does what he's wanted to do all day - he turns and runs away from the heat of their stares.  

“Luke!”

He can hear the water splash as Michael gets out of the pond, but Luke keeps his eyes forward and runs straight to the car, throwing himself into the front seat and starting it. He doesn’t drive away, doesn’t think it’d be smart with the sobs racking his entire body. His head falls against the steering wheel as he lets the tears fall and his chest heave. He feels stupid for being so self-conscious about it and letting the heat get to him. He's knows he'll regret overreacting like such a fool later, but now all he can think about is how pathetic he is.

He shouldn’t have left like that, he knows. Everyone must think he's a drama queen who couldn’t handle a little nudity between friends.

He's a fucking prude.

The passenger door opens suddenly and Luke jumps as Michael gets in, damp and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that must belong to one of the others. He doesn’t even have time to find it hot or feel turned on, not when he's collapsing into his boyfriend's arms and sobbing into his bare collar.

“That's it, Princess,” Michael consoles him, holding on tight. “Get it all out.”

They sit there for awhile, finding comfort in each other’s presence, until Luke can finally catch his breath and the tears stop coming as quickly. Michael holds him through it saying sweet things and rubbing him back.

“‘m sorry,” Luke apologizes, muffled by Michael’s skin, but still coherent.

“What for?”

For being overdramatic, for letting his own issues get in the way of everybody’s fun, for being such a fucking drag. “Well getting you wet with my tears for one.”

Michael laughs, but it isn’t as joyous and carefree as it was earlier. Luke feels guilty. “I'm certain I’m more wet from the water than from you.”

He know Michael is trying to joke with him, to lighten the situation, but it doesn’t play well. Luke nods, pulling away to wipe his eyes, and Michael lets him go. Though the AC in his car is working to keep things cooler, the air in the car is stuffy and tense with unsaid things. Luke grabs on the steering wheel and takes a deep breath.

He'd be content to sit in silence and feel his shame, but he knows Michael wouldn’t let that happen. “I want to say that your reaction came out of nowhere,” he begins. “But I don’t think that’s right. I think you've been trying to tell me you didn’t want to come all day.”

“I have.”  

Michael nods, eyes closed and face pinched. “‘m sorry i wasn’t listening.”

“I didn’t really say much.” Luke’s self-deprecating laugh gets stuck in his throat, still thick with the tears he's left to cry. “Kept it to myself, didn’t I? It’s on me.”

“Even so,” Michael says. “I should’ve seen your body language. Heard what you didn’t say. It’s on me too.” It’s so genuine, is the bit of it that Luke hates. If Michael wasn’t understanding or was downplaying Luke’s emotions, it’d be a different story and _maybe_ Luke could feel righteous in his behavior -

But that’s never going to be the case with Michael. Michael, who is such a kind and compassionate person, and would never let Luke wallow in his own pity. He'd love to be annoyed with it, but he's just annoyed with himself.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers, shaking his head minutely.

Michael's hand lands gently on Luke’s shoulder. “Do what?” Though he knows _exactly_ what he's doing.

“Don’t act like you did something wrong.” Luke slouches his shoulder, letting Michael's hand fall onto the center console. “I’m the weird one, aren’t I? I’m the prude who can’t stand his body.”

“That's not true, Princess. That's not true and you know it.” Michael sounds upset, almost offended. Luke refuses to look at him, aiming his vision resolutely at the dashboard.

“Don't I?”

Michael's hands reach out to gently pull Luke’s face by his cheek, looking him in the eye with a smile that any other time would have Luke melting. “You're naked a solid seventy percent of the time we're alone together. You have no shame in your body.” His voice is quiet, soft, and Luke can feel more tears welling up in his eyes with how much Michael must care to talk him through everything. “The first time we saw each other naked, it was on your initiation. You're comfortable enough to be naked with me, it’s just that with everybody else there, things we too intense and everything was escalating. It's not on you.”

He's right — all of it is right — paired with the heat and how tetchy he'd been all day, there was no way he ever would’ve been able to go through with it.

The tears fall, and he's crying again. “I just felt so judged.”

“You weren’t being judged,” Michael tells him.

“But I - ”

“I know it felt that way,” Michael stops him before he can argue the validity of his emotions, most likely knowing where his thoughts were taking him. “And you have every right to feel the way you do, I’m not disputing that. But we weren’t judging you.”

It stops Luke in his tracks. Logically, he knows Michael's right, but there’s still a small part that still feels like a pathetic little kid for getting so worked up over something so trivial.

“We were judging Ashton a _little_ , I won’t lie about that,” Michael continues over Luke’s silence. “But we would never judge you or your beautiful long legs.” Luke can’t help but to chuckle through his tears at Michael's teasing grin. “Or those blond locks of yours,” he reaches a hand out to tug lightly on the fringe of Luke’s hair. “Or those dimples. Or the tiny little love handles on that waist of yours.” Luke can’t stop grinning and looks up at Michael with unshed tears still in his eyes. “Or those beautiful, oceanic eyes. Which could bring me to my knees any day of the week.”

“That’s too much.”

“It's the truth,” Michael says with such finality that Luke has to lean forward and kiss him once just to stop him from citing any Shakespearean prose about Luke’s beauty.

He's not sure he could handle any more kind words - he's not sure he deserves Michael. It seems this wonderful man was sent straight to him to heal all of the wounds in his life. It’s ridiculous and wonderful, and Luke knows there’s nobody on Earth that’s been better to him than Michael's being right in this very moment.

“I’m sorry I ruined everything,” he whispers.

His face is still close to Michael’s, and he can see the sincerity when he says, “You ruined nothing, Princess. You should never apologize for feeling uncomfortable.”

Luke feels like he could really fall in love with Michael. It’s as painful as it is beautiful.

“I’m going to go get my shirt and then we'll head out,” Michael tells him. It’s completely slipped his mind that his boyfriend’s been topless this entire time. He feels like he can finally appreciate the look. “We can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

Michael laughs like it’s a song. “Anything within reason.” He opens the door and sets his feet out before turning back to Luke. “We'll come back soon. Just you and me. A naked redemption for what those idiots ruined back there.”

“I’m not so sure,” Luke answers, still feeling the hurt of today.

“We'll see.”

Michael smiles like the sun and gets out of the car to back to the pond. Luke wipes his tears away, and watches his boyfriend walk away. He still feels a fool but he can’t wallow in it, not when Michael is so good.

Not when Michael is so good to _him_.

☀

A week later finds Luke walking around Tesco, doing some early morning shopping for his mom. There was an emergency in one of Liz's charity groups, and she couldn’t handle the grocery this morning. Not that Luke minds at all — Michael tends to sleep in much later than him, so there’s not very often too many things to do as he waits for the good morning call.  

He's been trying to figure something out, something to pay back Michael for his kindness the week before at the pond, and he thinks he finds it as he standing in line and sees something so juvenile that he doesn’t even hesitate before throwing it in his trolley.

He stops at home to drop of the groceries and change into a swimsuit, and then runs to Calum's house with his little package in hand, not even bothering take his car. He's just too giddy. He lets himself inside, waving to Calum who’s sorting through a stack of cassette tapes on the floor. Calum waves back, and then returns to his task.

Luke runs upstairs and into the spare room, jumping on Michael's makeshift bed. He knows Michael had a late night, playing at a pub in town, but still has no guilt about waking him.

Michael jumps up, his eyes alert and red hair a mess, but then sees Luke and lies back down, making sure to roll his eyes as he does.

“You about gave me a heart attack, Princess.” His hand goes up to his chest, and Luke laughs at the dramatics. He joins Michael on the pillow, both of them face to face. “Thought you were Calum, I nearly clocked you.”

Luke keeps smiling, too excited for what he has planned. Michael's so unaware of what's about to happen, and he looks so innocent — even though Luke _knows_ he's anything but. His eyes are half-open and he's got a ridiculous grin playing on his face.

He blinks slowly. “You’re so fucking beautiful sometimes. I can’t stand it.” It seems like Michael said it without meaning to, so Luke leans forward and kisses him. “Luke,” Michael laughs, pulling away. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“Then go brush,” Luke rolls his eyes, still wearing the same goofy grin he came in with, and pushes himself up off the floor. “Put on a swimsuit while you’re at it.”

Michael sits up as Luke starts to head towards the door. “What’s going on?”

“Just do it.” He flicks the light on as he walks backwards out of the threshold. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He heads back down, passing Calum who's still messing about with his cassettes. Luke walks into the kitchen before walking right back out and standing in front of Calum. “Do you have a bucket or a cooler or something?”

“Should,” he comments without looking up. “Check the cupboard under the sink.”

Luke goes and finds a bucket filled with cleaning supplies. He empties the contents and takes the bucket outside with him. When he gets approaches the outside tap on the side of the house, Luke pulls out the package of water balloons he'd impulse bought and starts to fill them up.

The first one pops as soon as he places it in the bucket, so he makes do filling the bottom of it with a bit of cold water to make the impact less harsh. Then he goes back to filling the the balloons, tying each one off and filling the bucket slowly. He's more than excited to start the fight — something about once again being the spontaneous and fun one… it brings Luke to a whole new level.

There’s only enough room for a few more balloons when Michael comes groggily stumbling onto the grass on the side of the house. He's got his swim trunks on, but his eyes are filled with sleep and his hair is sticking up.

Luke finds himself so lucky at moments like this.

“What on earth are you doing?” Michael asks, still rubbing his eyes. “And why are we outside?”

He doesn’t take notice of what they’re doing, so Luke smiles and looks down at his hand as he's tying one up. “Water balloons,” he sums up in two words.

“... Why?”

“Because I've been bored all morning and these were only a dollar,” he explains, shutting the water off after tying up the last balloon. There are still some left, but Luke figures they can use them at another time.

Michael doesn’t laugh, doesn’t grin — he only stands watching Luke carry the basket onto the driveway with much difficulty. “You're insane if you think we're playing catch or something when I’ve just woken up.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Luke laughs, a husky quality to his voice. He reaches down and picks a balloon out of the bucket. “We're not playing catch.”

Michael watches Luke for a minute, his eyes narrowing on the balloon, but then moving slowly to where Luke has his bottom lip in between his teeth. “That sounded really hot coming from your mouth, Princess.”

“Then you'd better cool off.”

At first there’s no reaction, Michael not fully grasping what Luke’d said. When the words sink in, his brows furrow and his head cocks slightly to the left. “I'd better what?”

He's not even finished his question when Luke pulls his arm back and launches the balloon, hitting Michael square in the face. He watches his boyfriend’s mouth drop open, his eyes slowly beginning to narrow. Luke thinks fast, grabbing two more balloons and running across the driveway. He hears nothing behind him for a moment, until Michael grunts, and then there’s a water balloon hitting his back, making him stumble.

They continue to fight, Michael a lot more vicious than Luke’d originally thought. Each of them get their fair share of hits in, but Luke’s not afraid to admit he misses far more often than Michael does -

Though that was to be expected.

It’s as Luke’s reaching for a balloon that he realizes there’s only one left. A throat clears behind him, and he turns to see Michael holding a balloon and smiling like the sun — sickly-sweet and hiding absolutely nothing good. “Looks like it’s a standoff, then.”

Nobody moves initially, both waiting to see who makes the first move. But then Michael gives in and throws his, which Luke, surprisingly, manages to duck. The balloon hits Calum’s car behind him and the splash hits his back but with how soaked he already is, it doesn’t matter.

He's left standing with the last weapon.

“Luke, Princess.” Michael's grinning. He's positively drenched in water, and Luke loves it. “I’m out of balloons.”

“And there’s none left in the bucket,” Luke reminds him. “Shame, isn’t it?”

“Think about what you’re doing.” His hands are held up in surrender, but Luke feels too powerful not to taunt him with the balloons. “Think about how you’re holding this over my head and how bad that can be for a relationship.”

Luke shrugs. “I’m not that invested anyway.” But he's smiling

“ _Luke_!” Michael's yell is painted in shock and amusement.

“You know how this is going to end, Mikey.” He's basically singing, taking a sick pleasure in having this power over his boyfriend. “Don’t postpone the inevitable.”

“I’m not postponing shit, Princess. I’m standing here, waiting for you to put the balloon down and make love not war.”

Luke doesn't put down the balloon, not when he's in control. “You really think that’s going to happen? The ball’s in my court, Mikey.”

The look Michael suddenly gives Luke reads as doubt, as though he doesn't believe Luke has it in him to attack. “You like me too much to throw the ball.”

Luke shrugs. “We’ll see then.”

They stare each other down, neither wanting to make the first move. Luke gives the ballon a gentle squeeze, just to feel how much it'll hurt when he nails Michael.

But then Michael starts to approach.

“Hey!” Luke yells, taking a step backwards to match Michael's advance. “Stop moving!” Michael ignores him and keeps going, moving as slow and menacingly as he can. Luke keeps matching his steps. “I said don't move.” He raises his arm as a warning. “Don’t make me throw it.”

Michael looks him right in the eyes and grins. “Do it.”

Luke doesn’t throw it right away, waiting until Michael start his steps again. It’s too late, though, he realizes when Michael's close enough to reach for the balloon. Luke pulls his arm into his body and hunches over as Michael fights him from behind, trying to reach it.

They fall to the ground, Luke on his knees and Michael draping himself across Luke’s shoulder. It was bound to happen, but Luke’s still shocked when the balloon pops in his arms, getting his stomach even more wet than it already was.

Luke squeals, voice more shrill than it’s ever been before. “ _Michael_!”

Michael laughs and backs away, hands wrapping around his stomach. “You should’ve thrown it, Luke.” Luke stand up and shoves Michael away, making him stumble. “Hey now! No need to get violent.”

“I was totally about to win!” Luke stomps his feet and frowns, knowing he looks every bit a child, but he doesn’t care. He was so close to his third victory this month alone. “You cheated!”

Michael cackles, a loud boom laugh that has Luke pouting harder. “How did I cheat?” he asks. “I walked over to you slowly and reached for the balloon. You’re the one who popped it all over yourself.”

“You could’ve just let me hit you!”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Princess.” He smirks and makes his way closer. Luke's immediately suspicious. “If you want, I’ll let you get me wet again later.”

He smiles crookedly, and Luke wants to be mad but he can’t because his boyfriend is fucking stupid, and he likes him so damn much. He can’t hold his anger around Michael, and he laughs. “You’re not funny,” he bites, trying to maintain his dignity in the situation (though he's already aware it’s long gone).

“I’m hilarious.”

And, well… Luke’s not going to fight that one.

They decide to clean up the grass, figuring that Calum wouldn’t appreciate coming outside to see his yard and driveway covered in broken water balloons. So they walk around with the plastic Tesco bag Luke brought the balloons in and pick up every tiny scrap. There are far more than he's thought there’d be, and Michael doesn’t do much else than hold the bag for Luke, but when they’re done, the grass looks much cleaner, and Luke doesn’t have the guilt of the mess weighing on his shoulder.

Michael grabs the bucket from the driveway, the bottom still sitting with water and a few loose popped balloons, and sets it underneath the hook-up for the hose. Their game has come full circle, and they both sit against the house, exhausted.

“Well that was fun,” Michael comments, his hand running through his now damp hair. “What inspired such an activity?”

“Saw them on sale in Tesco,” Luke shrugs, answering the question, but not minding. “Told you I only paid a dollar.”

“Can’t say I’m disappointed.”

They sit together, enjoying the feeling of the sun of their damp bodies. It’s been an a nice day, and it’s only just begun. Moments like these have Luke feeling inexplicably happy — there’s always a hope for good things. As if he was thinking the same thing, Michael reaches out and grabs Luke’s hand

“This was a nice day,” he says, voice quiet. “Thank you.”

Luke grins and looks at his boyfriend, smiling when he thinks about how just a bit ago they were enemies. “It was kind of dumb, actually.”

“Maybe,” Michael laughs. “Doesn’t make it any less fun.”

Luke’s said this before and he'll say it a thousand times — he doesn’t know how he got so incredibly lucky as to have a boyfriend as supportive as Michael. He won’t lie to Luke, won’t say things for the sake of making Luke feel better, but he's never cruel. Today _was_ dumb, and if they do it again, it’ll still be incredibly immature and a waste of time…

But it was fun, and Luke would do it again and again. He doesn’t care how stupid they looked to the neighbors or that cleaning up was probably more effort than it was worth. He'd do it again and again.

“I couldn’t have done this kind of stuff with my anyone else, I don’t think,” Luke considers out loud. Michael's tightens his hold on Luke’s. “Definitely not with my ex. Would’ve been judged.”

"He was a dick, then,” Michael says, bringing their hands up to his lips and kissing them.

“She.”

“Pardon?”

"She was dick,” Luke corrects. “Or a bitch, I guess. She hated things that didn’t have a purpose.”

Luke’s never stated his sexuality — though he doesn’t know if he'd even label it — so it must be news for Michael that he'd ever dated anyone other than boys, but Michael recovers well, not hesitating for even a moment. “Was she an accountant or something?” he jokes. "She sounds boring.”

“Artist, actually.” They’d not had any classes together, oddly enough, and had met by bumping into each other at a party. He'd thought it was fate at the time, but now he likes to think destiny has better things at play. “And she wasn’t boring. It’s just that everything needed a place. If there wasn’t a reason for doing something, she wasn’t a fan at all.”

“Gee, I wonder why that relationship ended.” Though it wasn’t said rudely, Luke stays quiet. He remembers why it ended and… “I was just joking.”

“No, it’s…” Luke shakes his head and almost bites his lip against saying what had happened. He gives into himself easily, figuring Michael's been nothing but amazing in their relationship, and even a messed up break up couldn’t ruin that. “I told her that I loved her. She didn’t react well to the news.”

“Why not?”

If there was ever bone in Luke’s body that said Michael wasn’t the person to talk to about important things, it’d be wrong. For some reason, whenever Luke’s around the other man, he finds himself opening up. Michael asks the right questions at the right time, and knows how to work information out of Luke.

Not that he'd ever want to hide anything.

“Not sure,” he answers, honest. “I just thought I felt it, so I said it. She didn’t say it back, and instead broke up with me.”

Michael shakes his head, looking right at Luke as he says, “That’s so fucked up.”

“It’s not like I thought she’d say it back,” Luke rambles. “I guess she didn’t see our relationship going anywhere, which is probably why she needed everything else to make sense.”

“Because _you_ didn’t?”

Luke nods along, his lips thinning bitterly as Michael hits the nail on the head. “Exactly.”

Luke’s always been great at moving on and not holding grudges, and he wouldn’t ever for a moment consider getting back with any of his exes, but he still hates that they all ended, that he'd ever thought he could be with these people forever and it ended over ridiculous things like this.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Michael catches his attention, “why did you say it if you didn’t think she felt the same?”

“Because I thought _I_ felt it.” It’s always been as simple as that for that for Luke. He's honest with his emotions, and he'd never think to stifle them for even a moment. “And pretending not to be interested in someone is useless, don’t you think? The point of love is to share the feeling with the person you have love for. Why should I pretend to not be happy?”

Michael sits next to Luke, hand gripping his tightly and he lets it all sink in, let’s Luke’s romanticism of love truly hit him. “Well,” he sighs after a bit. “You know this ends and the end of the summer.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Though bringing it up may have sounded cruel at first, Michael is smiling, leading Luke to believe he's going to be light with it. “I’m just saying. Don’t go falling in love or something foolish.”

“Same goes for you then.” Luke can’t help himself from smiling back. They’re going to have to end things at the end of the summer, but it’s far enough away that they can ignore the impending break up and joke about it. “No falling in love.”

“With you?” Michael teases. “Never.”

Michael's nose scrunches up, and Luke falls into his shoulder laughing. It’s ridiculous and wonderful and so damn _dumb_. Luke wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next to him, Michael's smiling at the ground, and Luke gets an idea. He unhooks their hands, grabs the bucket from next to him and dumps the small bit of water on Michael's head. Michael gasps at the shock of it, and Luke can’t help but laugh that he finally got his win.

Michael shakes his hair, and the water hits Luke in the face. They both fall into each other again, and it feels like something of a movie.

Luke puts up a front, but he knows how easy it would be for him to fall in love with Michael. And when it happens, he doesn’t think he'll be able to keep it to himself.

☀

It’s not until one of the hottest days of the summer that Michael pulls through on his promise. The memory and feeling of discomfort from the first time they’d gone skinny dipping sticks to Luke like glue. Being surrounded by everybody waiting for him to be completely nude, had him feeling shameful for no discernible reason, other than it’s just how he felt.

Michael had come over earlier in the day, demanding Luke’s keys before he had drove them out of town a little ways.

They’re in the woods now. It’s not the largest patch of trees, the terrain isn’t the smoothest, and the entire trip feels miles longer than it actually is.

“Where are we going?” Luke asks. The area is new to him, but in a completely familiar way. Not as though he'd been here before, but as though he'd been in a similar atmosphere before.

“It’s just a few more steps,” Michael answers, stepping over a fallen tree trunk resting on the ground, “don’t be a baby.”

Luke rolls his eyes, picking up his pace just so he can pass Michael by, smiling at the astonished laugh that falls from his mouth. “One of these days,” he threatens, “I’m going to take you on a hike. _Then_ we’ll see who’s the baby.”

Michael chuckles, and when Luke turns around to check on him, he's stopped walking and has a smile on his face. “A whole day in nature with you? Sign me up, Princess. Let’s go tomorrow.”

“One day your sarcasm is going to come back and bite you in the ass. I _will_ take you hiking, and you’re going to hate it.”

Michael picks up walking, humming as he passes by Luke. “You’ll forget about that hike nearly any minute now.”

He laughs, shaking his head before he starts following Michael again. “If you’re erasing my memory please make sure to take care of me being 13. I don’t need to remember any of that.”  

Michael suddenly stops walking. In front of his path, the branches and leaves are thin enough to see through if he squints, but thick enough to conceal what lies beyond if he doesn’t. He turns around and looks up at Luke through his eyelashes, a small smile gracing his lips. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. It looks like he wants to, but as he opens his mouth to speak, he seems to stop himself, biting his lip instead.

It throws Luke back to the feeling he gets every time he thinks he could love Michael. Every time he feels like he could be with Michael forever, like he could laugh at and smile with and watch Michael for the rest of his life.

It’s a dangerous thought, he knows. They can’t be together for long as they’re parting ways at the end of the summer, but standing here, seeing the same look on Michael’s face that he knows he mimics on his own every moment they’re together, he can’t help it. He knows that he shouldn’t think it, think he could truly love this man, but looking at him looking at Luke, it feels like maybe Michael thinks the same. That even though this summer is all they have together, that maybe they could make it in the long run.

It’s not a smart thought to have, but it does make everything that they’re doing seem worthwhile.

“It’s just through here, Princess.”

Luke walks past where Michael is gesturing, pushing branches out of his way to reveal the opening in the woods. For a moment he's stunned, feels like he should’ve realized what was happening and where they were going, but maybe he just has too much faith in Michael.

It’s the pond, of course it is. Michael has dragged him out of his home and into the only place in the world where Luke would actively rather be anywhere else than with his boyfriend. Looking out into the open area, seeing the water a sparkling blue, it makes a hot ball of lead settle at the bottom of his stomach.

“I’m actually surprised you didn’t notice it,” Michael is yapping behind him. Luke isn’t really listening, can’t focus on anything but how humiliated he feels at the memories flooding his mind and how ashamed he feels that one simple moment of panic has him so off kilter. “But then again, we took a separate way in, but - ”

“Why are we here?” Luke interrupts, unable to stop the shakiness from bleeding into his voice.

Michael looks surprised when Luke turns around. His eyes are wider than usual and he's gone white. “I told you I’d bring you back,” he reminds, “just us, and - ”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he cuts off again. He can’t get the feeling of chagrin as he remembers the way it felt to have everybody watching him, nearly seeing him at his most vulnerable, out of his head. “The first time was bad enough, Michael, I’m not doing this!”

He feels bad for stomping all over Michael’s date idea. He doesn’t like arguing with anybody, let alone his boyfriend. Every time they fight it feels like he's swallowing glass, and he doesn’t want to stick around and wait for the pain to sink in, so he walks off.

“Hey,” Michael shouts, following closely behind, “wait, don’t - ”

“I can’t believe you’d even bring me here after what happened.”

He sighs, continuing his chase. “Luke! Will you listen to me, please?”

“No!” Luke snaps. “I’m driving home and you can either drop the subject or walk.”

“Let me explain myself at least!”

He stops walking and lets out an exhausted sigh. In turning around, he can see how panicked and upset Michael looks. And as hurt as Luke feels, being dragged back to the place where he had a break down so embarrassing that it took Michael’s persuading to actually get him feeling okay enough to see his friends again, he wants to give Michael a chance to explain himself.

He isn’t happy about it, though.

“Go ahead!” he demands. “Explain your genius thought process behind dragging me here and bringing back my shame. Please!”

“I didn’t bring you back here to embarrass you, Luke,” Michael explains. He's looking into Luke’s eyes, and speaking softly. Logically, Luke knows he can believe him, but some part of him wants to fight the obvious. “You know I’d never do that to you. I just thought that last time, you didn’t get to experience any of the magic here because of what happened. If you don’t want to go completely nude that’s fine. Keep your boxers on, keep everything on — don’t go swimming at all, I don’t care. But this place is quiet, and it’s special, and it hurt you once before. I want to help you heal, and I want to enjoy its beauty with you.”

“But that day - ”

“If you don’t want to, I won’t make you,” he says. “I don’t want to make you feel the way you did that day, I want to help you get over it. If you’re not ready, or if you’re _never_ ready, that’s fine too. I just thought I’d try.”

Watching him speak earnestly, seeing the caring aspect in his eyes, it has Luke feeling guilty for reacting so harshly, for being so angry at Michael’s kind intention. He still feels almost afraid to walk back towards the pond, if only because he's afraid of invoking the feelings again.

But with Michael willing to walk away, to put Luke’s comfort before anything else, he's ready to try, to at least go back to the pond, forgetting his anger, and trying to move past the feelings he had that night.

Michael said he was going to try again and make it wonderful, and Luke is willing to let him.

“I mean,” Luke starts, dropping his eyes to Michael’s legs, refusing to look back up at him. “I could sit down I guess. I just — I don’t know about swimming.”  

“That’s fine!” He still isn’t looking at Michael, but Luke can hear the relief in his voice. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

He hides his blush by nodding tersely and walking passed Michael. “Don’t get sappy with me,” he mutters. “I’ll turn back around if I have to.”

“You can only change your mind so many times before you get dizzy.”

“Very funny,” Luke snorts. He realizes that Michael hasn’t continued walking so he stops his pace, cocking his hip as he looks behind him. “Are you coming or what?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, smirking as he looks Luke up and down. “I’m rather enjoying the view.”

He watches Michael start walking again, waiting until they’re closer to shove his shoulder at the joke. Michael laughs, cute little chuckles tumbling out as he leads the way back to the pond.

When they make it past the trees and actually walk into the open land and on the bank, Luke feels the discomfort settling in again. Logically, he knows that they’re alone this time, and Michael has already seen his body, but he's afraid of feeling as vulnerable as he did the last time they were here.

He's hoping that Michael’s right, that being here in a more familiar environment with somebody who already knows what Luke looks like underneath his clothes will erase the toxic memory and feeling. The only problem is that while he knows he can overcome the small feeling, standing here, looking at the pond, he can still feel the ice cold shame shiver through his body.

“I know the last time you were here it wasn’t exactly a good time,” Michael says as he walks a slow circle around the pond.

Luke snorts, looking towards the small opening through the trees where he'd last fled the area from. “That’s putting it lightly, I’d say.”

“Well I’m here to make it better,” Michael smiles. “So.”

“So…”

He watches as Michael bites his lip, still making small circles around the pond as Luke stands unmoving, trying to keep his mind empty.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Luke blinks, didn’t expect such a trivial question — if any question at all. “It’s actually green,” he answers, gesturing to the woods surrounding them, “nature and all that.” And the color of Michael’s eyes in the moonlight.

Michael pauses his steps, shaking his head as he laughs. “I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised but I am.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smiles and Michael starts walking again. “What’d you think my favorite color would be?” he asks. “Pink or something?”

Michael shrugs. He skips a step trying to hop over a log on the ground, nearly braining himself as his heel catches on a stray piece of wood. “I figured it’d be like silver or periwinkle. I dunno, guess I always saw you picking something out there. Maybe like a chestnut.”

“I feel like I’m much more exciting in your head than I am in real life”

“No, Princess, definitely not,” he denies, looking at Luke with bright eyes. “You’re a lot weirder in my head, but you’re not boring.”

Luke laughs, knowing better than to be insulted. Weird is a compliment with Michael. _Everything_ is a compliment with Michael. “Green isn’t boring?”

“Not as boring as red or blue,” he shrugs.

“Then you’re going to hate my favorite movie.”

Michael cackles, stopping his steps to fully project his laughter. “Is it like _Airplane_ or something like that?”

“No,” Luke challenges. “It’s _Ghost_. I’ve always wanted to do the whole pottery scene.”

“Oh a _romantic_ ,” he teases, leaning the top half of his body forward, a dreamy sigh falling from his lips. “That’s not boring, Princess. I’ve got myself a real life romantic.”

Luke giggles, tilting his head down and refusing to make eye contact when Michael’s smiling and sighing like he is. “What’s yours, then?”

He thinks on it for a moment, Luke realizes when he looks up. “ _Heathers_ , probably. I fancy myself a Veronica.”

“Do you fancy _yourself_ a Veronica, or do you just fancy Veronica?”

Michael’s silent at first, a wide smile breaking out along his lips. He finally answers after taking a deep breath, saying, “I’d like to use plausible denia - ”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Luke cuts him off, his arm rising in an abandoned attempt to push him. If there wasn’t as much space between them, he'd probably push him into the pond. “You’re not even using it right.”

Times like these, Luke wishes he didn’t have school to go back to, that he could stay here forever. It’s as he's looking at Michael laugh, eyes shining and cheeks pinking that he truly believes this is the happiest he'll ever be, and that leaving will only cause his heart to break.

He knows without a reasonable doubt that they’ll never work out together in the long run, that they both have different lives to live, different experiences to encounter, but standing in this quiet patch of the woods, a beautifully silent pond between them, ebbing gently as they make each other smile and laugh — it all has him dreaming of a future with Michael.

It’s not possible, though. At least, not with the way they’ve already set their paths. Hillvue is just a pit stop on their journey through life, and they’ve been lucky enough to get this time together — an extension isn’t something they can afford.

It breaks his heart, the fact that there’s a deadline. Days like today, where Michael brings Luke out of his comfort zone to try and _restore_ his comfort zone, make him want to do this forever. But they can’t, and even though they both know it, they try not to discuss it, try not to let their impending ending ruin what they’ve got going.

“Are you going to get in the water?” Luke asks after they let the silence run between them.

“Not unless you are,” Michael answers, tone light despite clearly watching what he's saying as to not scare Luke — and he'll never say it, but Michael’s caution makes his cheeks feel warm. “I’ll only do what you’re comfortable with doing.”

He nods, looking into the pond, trying to make himself excited to go swimming in the english heat. “So if I wanted to go in the water, you’d go?”

“Of course,” Michael smiles, eyes hopeful as he watches Luke debate with himself. “Does that mean you want to go in.”

He isn’t sure, is the thing. The painful memory of his embarrassment that afternoon is still making itself known, but now it’s being challenged by the anticipation of actually getting to enjoy an opportunity to skinny dip. While he's afraid of humiliating himself again, the prospect of being so close and intimate with Michael is something he doesn’t think he could pass up.

He bites his lip and finds the nerve to answer, “maybe not _completely_ naked at first.”

“That’s alright with me, Princess,” Michael smiles. “You want me to go first?”

“I’d _love_ to watch that, yes.”

“Filthy mind you’ve got there,” Michael smirks, fingers playing with them hem of his shirt. He bites his lip, and Luke almost regrets that he didn’t give in sooner, if only for this moment. “But if you’re looking for a show, I’ll put on a show.”

There’s no music playing, so it’s already clear that the ‘show’ isn’t going to be worthy of any awards, but there’s a smile on Michael’s lips as he toes his trainers off, slightly stumbling as one of his socks gets caught on the ground, and Luke feels like he's watching his favorite movie. He doesn’t try to make it sexy, and for Luke, it’s absolutely perfect.

He's moving his hips stiffly, but he's clumsy, and it’s the best thing Luke’s ever seen. As Michael moves to remove his shirt, he takes a lot of time trying to get his shirt off by pulling the back of the collar of his t-shirt over his head in a smooth pull. It takes longer than either of them anticipated, so Michael occupies the time by beginning to hum tunelessly.

Luke watches, giggles tumbling out as he's hopelessly endeared by Michael’s dancing and humming. When the shirt finally comes off, Michael’s song is being almost constantly interrupted by his laughter, and he doesn’t make a show of removing his pants, only unbuttoning them and sliding them down his legs.

“For all that it’s worth,” Luke comments, smiling as Michael folds his clothes up and setting them a distance away from the bank, “that was the best show I’ve ever seen.”

He beams, standing up from where he'd set his clothes down. Luke has to take a moment to himself, having not prepared himself for Michael to be on display, for him to be standing tall and confident, teasing just the right amount skin to drive Luke wild.

“Do you want me in the water while you undress or should I wait?”

he has to gather his bearings, has to shake his head to find the wits to answer, “I don’t think it’ll matter, really - ”

“Well I just want to make this the most comfortable for you,” he cuts, walking around the pond and getting closer. “If having me hang upside down in a tree would make you feel better, I’d do that.”

“Well - ”

“ _Luke_ ,” he laughs, “c’mon!”

“Alright, I’m going.”

Luke doesn’t make the same show that Michael did as he undresses. He feels far too vulnerable to flaunt himself, to make it playful. So as he slides off his sandals and removes his shirt and shorts, he can’t find it in himself to look up. Though Michael’s seen his body before, an anxious feeling is mocking him as he exposes himself.

When he's down to only his briefs, he finds the nerve to look up. Michael isn’t staring at his body though; instead, he's smiling at Luke’s face, his own features melting into a look of pure awe.

“I know it’s not a great time to say this, and I don’t want you to think I’m only saying this because of your state of dress,” he admits, keeping his eyes locked with Luke’s, “but you’re beautiful, Luke. With clothes or without them, it doesn’t matter. You make my world better.”  

Luke blushes, welcoming the pink that dusts his cheeks. He watches as Michael makes his way over and lowers his voice, “that’s really sappy.”

“Good,” he smiles back. “You deserve all the sap.”

He waits until Michael’s within reaching distance and whispers, “it’s cheesy too.”

“And corny?”

“The worst.”

“Hmm.”

One of the things that Luke enjoys most about their relationship is how intense it is. He loves the way their voices get quiet and soft and that their words, though they may not say much, can feel like the most powerful prose in the world. He loves the way his skin tingles when Michael gets close enough and that at any given moment, they’re only a few seconds away from intimacy. He doesn’t think he'll ever tire of the way Michael bites his lip mid-exchange as if it’s almost too much for him.

It’s yet another reason why Luke doesn’t want this to end.

“Can we get in the water?” he rasps, mouth suddenly dry.

Michael grins and shakes his head in response. “I’m going to kiss you first.”

“Then do it.”

Michael kisses the way he speaks, slow and teasing — a gentle placing of his lips on Luke’s, nipping lightly. When Luke goes to deepen the kiss, Michael pulls away with a smirk and nods his head towards the pond, “the water then?”

Feeling dazed, he finds himself wanting to lean back in. “Yeah.”

With a playful bite of his lip, Michael walks backwards, maintaining eye contact, until he's at the edge of the pond. He gently lowers himself into the water and motions for Luke to do the same.

Luke follows, wading into the pond at the same point. The water is warm, the sun having heated it to a nice, calming temperature. It still makes the hair on on his arms stand up, if only from memory. He's tense, of course, his recollection of the afternoon before isn’t as pressing and shameful as it was earlier in the day, but there’s still a trace of indignity that’s rooted to this pond.

Michael goes his own way, his body drifting deeper into the pond towards where his feet won’t be able to touch the bottom, leaving Luke to float in where the water ebbs at his shoulders.

His mind isn’t as calm as he'd hoped, too busy racing with thoughts and fears and anticipation of actually being naked in the water. The build-up is almost worse than when everyone else actually _was_ naked, the suspense stinging sharply in his body.

In a last minute attempt to rid the slight panic, Luke reaches under the water and slides his underwear down his legs, taking them off completely. He holds them in his hands and looks across the pond to where Michael is leaning back and looking into the woods. “Michael?”

“Yes, Princess?”

Luke watches as Michael’s eyes shift over to where he is almost completely submerged in the water. “What I do, you’ll do, right?”

He nods, wading forward, back to Luke’s end of the pond. “That’s about right.”

“Well…” he trails off, swallowing thickly as he thinks about how to express his readiness to move forward. There’s still the hot buzz of anticipation wanting to stop him from doing anything, but he ignores that and lifts the hand holding his pants out of the water and flings the garment onto the bank.

Michael doesn’t react at first, making Luke worry that he'd ruined what they had going, but then Michael’s eyes light up and he grins. “Oh is that how it is?” he teases, “you get into the water and you think you can start stripping?”

Luke laughs, and though it’s a bit strained, it stills comes off genuine. “Are you complaining?”

“No, Princess,” he answers, and Luke’s shoulders ease back in relief, glad to have not spoiled anything with his impulse. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

Michael’s looking at him the same way he did when they were stripping earlier, the same shine in his eyes as when they’d fooled around in the bathroom of the bar, as when they’d first been intimate at Calum’s house at the beginning of their relationship.

“If you were a stripper, your name would be Velvet Magic,” Michael says casually, his hand toying mindlessly just beneath the surface of the water.

Luke laughs instantly, happy that his boyfriend is so good at keeping things light, at keeping their heads clear. “And why is that?”

“Well that's what I call your tongue, so.”

He doesn't finish his statement, can't really. Luke starts laughing hard enough to cut his off and keeps it going for probably too long, getting high-pitched at the end. It was so stupid, so ridiculous, and Luke's so completely lucky he has such a wonderful boyfriend to make him feel so bubbly.

“You next?” he asks, hoping to not be overwhelmed by how much he _feels_ for this man before him.

“Me next.”

Michael’s second strip show of the day isn’t as lighthearted as the first one. There’s a look in his eyes now like he knows how much this means to Luke, like he knows not to take the moment lightly at all.

He throws his underwear on the opposite side of the pond from where Luke threw his, and it’s probably for the best. Luke doesn’t think he could get redressed with Michael’s wet, smooth body right in front of him, too tempting of an image.

The moment Michael’s garments hit the bank, it’s like all of the stress eases out of Luke’s body because he's here, he's doing it. He's nude, in the water, with the person he cares for most floating a distance away from him. It’s peaceful, now that he's in the moment — the warm water soaking into his body as he enjoys the English sun beating down on them, the whistling of the trees and the birds that occupy them a calming soundtrack.

And it’s wonderful.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Michael comments as he floats through the water. His body is hidden, but the water’s clear enough to tease a bit of skin.

“It would be better if you were a bit closer,” Luke replies, licking his lips as he eyes Michael down.

“I can’t, Princess,” he answers, inching closer despite his words. “Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

Michael’s voice is low, sultry, and if there were ever a time for him to be impulsive it should be now, with the way he's driving Luke crazy with just the tone of his voice. “Who’s saying you have to?”

His words have Michael leering at him, an amused tilt to him lips. “What happened to the nervous boy from before?”

Luke smiles, wading closer to Michael as he speaks. "He saw you, looking at him, like you wanted to touch him.”

“Hm,” Michael hums, “that’s quite an observation.”

“Is it?”

“I’d say it is,” he confirms. “Mind if I test out a theory?”

“Only if you catch me first”

It’s not a very large pond so as Luke swims away, it doesn’t take long for Michael to catch up, giggles floating through the summer air as both of them are giddy off of each other. Not for the first time, Luke finds himself _really_ wishing for these days to last forever.

☀

In a spontaneous moment of romantic intent, Luke decides to cook for Michael. It wasn’t a smart idea, and from the go he knew it was going to be bad. What he failed to predict was just how much of a disaster the whole thing ends up being.

The sauce, which he'd bought in a can to make things easier for himself, comes out pasty and in chunks of solid burnt bits. When he tries to salvage what he can of the sauce, the noodle water evaporates and nearly burns the bottom of the pan. The entire house smells like the burnt food and pans, and smoke begins to fill the kitchen.

As he's opening the windows to air out the house, the phone rings. It’s Michael — because _of course_ _it is_ — saying he's running behind and has to walk since Calum took his car to Somerton for the day, but he's leaving the house now though, and should be there soon.

Luke acts as excited he can through his nerves and slight fear, and all but slams the phone back onto the receiver, only to pull it off again so he can dial up the nearest delivery service — Thai food — hoping beyond hope that it arrives before Michael does. When he puts the phone back up, it falls, and Luke tells himself to pick it up later.

He just doesn’t have the _time_ right now.

He then throws the pans in the sink and runs cold water over them. It’s not going to solve the problem and it may make them more difficult to clean later, but he's running out of time. There are scented candles in the hallway cupboard that Luke lights and scatters around the kitchen. It’s not even romantic at this point — it’s all out necessity.  

Luke’s not exactly a great cook — clearly. There’ve been a bad dish (or four) in his time, but this is truly a new low for him. Never before has he come so close to burning down his house.

There’s a knock on the door far too soon for it to be his delivery, yet as he makes his way to answer it, he finds himself chanting, “Please be Thai. Please be Thai.” He throws open the front door, and it’s Michael — just as he suspected. The very first words that come tumbling out are, “I am _so_ sorry.”

“Hello to you too.” Michael steps forward into the house, shutting the door behind him, and leaning up to kiss Luke. “What have you to be sorry for?”

“I cooked for you.” Saying it out loud is even more ridiculous. How on Earth he thought he could ever successfully make something unsupervised is beyond him.

His tone isn’t easily sensed by Michael, who just laughs. “And you're sorry?”

“It was so bad,” Luke explains, a whine in his voice, as they stand at the doorway. “I burned about every dish I own. There was smoke everywhere. I had to throw it out.”

It still seems to amuse Michael, nothing working to wipe the smile from his face. “What were you making?”

“Spag bol.”

Michael laughs even harder, actually wrapping his hands around his middle and bending over with the weight of it. “How do you fuck up spag bol? It’s noodles and sauce. Most of it's just stirring”

“Michael stop.” Any other time he'd find enjoyment in it alongside his boyfriend, but his confidence had been shot since the very moment he'd messed up the sauce. “I was trying to be romantic. I had the whole night planned out.”

“Yeah?” Michael asks. “How'd that turn out?”

“ _Michael.”_

Like he'd been doing all night, Michael just keeps on laughing. It's good-natured, of course, but it does nothing to stop Luke’s disappointment in himself.

“Listen, Princess.” Michael's hand wraps around Luke's and he slowly pulls him into the kitchen.”It's really not a big deal. I can go ahead and try at it if you have more of the sauce.”

“I already ordered in.”

“You can dial a telly, yet you can't boil pasta?” Michael giggles at the defeated huff Luke lets out and kisses his lips again. “Oh, Luke. I’m sorry, Princess.”

He leans in and kisses him again. Luke doesn't react at first, doesn't want to when he's already ruined their date before it began. The kitchen smells like the buttercream candles and the smoke has long since cleared out, but the burnt dishes are piled high putting the evidence right in front of them.

But Michael's persistent — and one of the hottest guys Luke's ever seen — so of course Luke gives in. And of course Michael backs him up against the counter, so the ridge of it digs into his tailbone. The pain isn't enough to have them stop, though. If anything it just spurs Luke on more.

“I really am. Sorry. About dinner.” Luke apologizes in between kisses.

Michael chuckles, but this time it's husky and holds little humor. His hands go to Luke's waist. “Yeah, that's not really what I'm hungry for right now.” he helps Luke to jump up on the counter. Just as his hands reach down to undo Luke's button, there's a knock on the door, and Michael's head falls onto Luke's thigh.

“That would be the Thai,” Luke jokes, nothing but a breathy laugh coming out.

“Would it then?”

Luke goes to answer the door, hair wild and face flushed as Michael pulls himself together in kitchen. The entire time he stands at the door paying and grabbing his food, the delivery guy eyes him. It sets him off balance and has him blushing red when he walks into the kitchen.

“I think he knew something was up,” he tells Michael as he sets the takeaway on the counter.

“Course he did, Princess.” Michael didn't take much time to fix himself up from their moment. His hair is sticking up and his lips are bitten red. “You already look fucked out and I barely got my hands on you.”

Luke flushes, can't help because it's hot. His boyfriend's hot. “I, uh - ” Michael's cocky grin has Luke clearing his throat and looking down at the food so as not to initiate round two. “I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a mix of everything. Pad Thai, cashew chicken, some panang curry - ”

“I’ll take the curry, please.”

Luke swipes the curry before Michael's hand can reach it, and he weighs it down to the table. “You'll _share_ that curry.”

“If you insist.” Michael rolls his eyes with the words but Luke picks his hand up anyway. He  grabs forks out of the drawer and passes one to Michael, who grabs it, but takes a moment to look around the room. “We just going to eat here then?”

“Oh!” Luke didn’t even think about it, so completely used to eating out of the containers where he could find room. It’s how he usually enjoys takeaway with Ashton, and he hadn’t even considered other people may not find that to be normal. “I can grab some plates and we can - ”

Before Luke can finish his statement or go scattering about to find plates and set the table, Michael stops him, putting his hand on Luke’s wrist. “I’m only kidding. I used to do this all the time with my cousins.”

It stops Luke in his tracks. “You have cousins?”

“Course I do.” Michael looks so casual about it, but Luke’s jumping in his place. They’d only ever talked about Luke’s family, so it’s something exciting for Michael to be talking about it. “‘ve got five. All younger.” Luke can feel his own eyes light up, and he can’t help it. “I take it that’s good information then?”

“Course it is! I _love_ kids. Can I meet them?”

Michael smiles stiffly and plays with his food for a minute. Luke knows immediately he stepped on Michael's toes. It must be a sore subject. “I can’t really see that happening.”

Luke can take the hint, doesn’t need to be told twice. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” Michael's staring down at his curry. “Think I’d like some time to settle with myself.”

His mouth twists slightly as he mixes his food around, so Luke leans over the counter and kisses Michael. Michael kisses back, but it’s done with minimal effort and he doesn’t smile yet, so Luke says, “This’d be easier if you were just a bit taller, don’t you think?”

Michael finally smiles against Luke’s mouth, and his hand reaches out to smack Luke’s chest. “Prick.” Luke kisses Michael's button nose and pulls away. “How’s the pad Thai?” He points his fork towards Luke’s container.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs. “Not the best.”

He holds the container out and Michael pokes his fork in to grab some. He takes a bite and moans right away. “‘s pretty good actually. Something wrong with your taste?”

“Well I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

Michael laughs, and though Luke hears it so often, it’s always refreshing — a song for his ears only. “That was a good one. I’m proud of you for that!”

“You could say I’m learning from the best, aren’t I?” Luke jokes and Michael grins, and they fall into silence, enjoying their meals and each other’s presence.

Not much later, the door opens in the living room. It has Luke standing up straighter in curiosity. Before he can set his food aside and head towards the noise, “Luke?” Andy’s voice rings out. “You home?”

“In here!” He can hear his footsteps falling closer and closer and sends an apologetic look to Michael, but his boyfriend just grins back.

“Your mom - ” Andy cuts himself off as he enters the room. “Oh! Hello Michael. Lovely to see you again.”

Charming and polite, and such a _parent pleaser_ , Michael shows all of his teeth in a smile and nods. “You as well, Andy. You have a lovely home.”

“‘s not my work,” he says. “That’s my beautiful wife deserving that praise.” Michael chuckles at his words, and then Andy’s turning back to Luke. “Luke, you’re mom tried to ring, but the line’s been busy. Do you know why that could be?”

Luke shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Michael's call got through fine, earlier, and I’ve not made a call since.”

“Did you order Thai before or after the call?” Michael asks.

Luke thinks back and remembers it was Michael's call that had him panicking and dialling for takeaway, “After,” he answers. “he's right. I ordered Thai, but other than that…” he looks over to the other side of the kitchen only to see the phone hanging from the port in the laundry room where he'd forgotten to put it back. “Oh, I - ”

Andy walks over to the receiver and gently hangs it back up. “You’ve got to be more careful about that, Luke,” he tells him. “What if it’d been an emergency?”

“I’m so sorry,” Luke apologizes, feel properly chastised. “She's alright, isn’t she?”

"She just needed her purse brought to her,” Andy explains. His voice is gentle and it’s not any more raised than it usually is, but it still feels as though Andy’s disappointed with him and he hates it. “But I was headed back out that way, so I thought I’d bring it to her.”

Luke nods, looking solely at his pad thai. He knows that this is the closest he’d ever come to yelling, and for some reason that makes it much worse. His parents are always nothing but fair with him, never going too easy or too hard on him, and he can’t even be honest with them. Any other parents would throw a fit and yell about the phone bill, but Andy’s too good of a person for that.

Luke doesn’t deserve them.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

“You’re alright. I know it was an accident.” Andy sets his hand consolingly on his shoulder, and Luke smiles sadly.

Across the counter from where they’re standing, Michael pushes the unopened box of cashew chicken towards them. “Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love some,” Andy grins, but then he looks to the clock on the wall and sighs. “But I’ve got to get my wife her purse.”

“Maybe next time.”

Andy nods and peels his hand off Luke’s shoulder. “We’re actually throwing a party for our Luke at the end of the summer. We’d love for you to come. And any other friends you two have been spending all your time with.”

“I would love to!”

Around Luke, two important people in his life are getting along fine, and it’s a good thing — he should be ecstatic, he knows. All that’s running through his head, though, is that he'd messed up, and Andy barely gave him a talking to. He'd deserved to get yelled at, to have his phone privileges be taken away. He's not a teenager anymore, but he's still staying under their roof and -

He's overthinking things.

It seems that every time he's in the company of either of his parents he's in a mental spiral of guilt and shame, knowing he can do better as a person and be a better son and to just be _honest_.

“I really should head out,” Andy says. “Be more careful with that phone, Luke. We don’t want to risk not being able to reach you.”

“Of course.” _Of course_. Luke couldn’t handle this happening again, he'd never let it. “I’m so sorry.”

“And Michael it was a lovely surprise to have you back in our home,” he grins at Luke’s boyfriend. If anything good came out of the mess, it’s Andy being so accepting of Michael. “At least there’s only one extra person in my house. And this mess isn’t as bad as I’ve once seen it. After that party of yours.”

Andy chuckles good-naturedly, and Michael laughs along too, but Luke can’t do much else than smile weakly and hope nobody notices. Andy kisses him on the head and then grabs Liz’s purse off the dining table before heading out the door.

The minute the door is shut, Luke’s shoulders fall in on themselves.

“That was the tamest talking to I’ve ever seen,” Michael comments around his fork. His good manners seem to have disappeared with Andy. “Is he always that easy going?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Michael keeps his eyes on Luke, trying to figure something out. “Alright, Princess?”

Luke shrugs. He knows Michael's always there for him, and that he should open up, but doing it, explaining himself, is a difficult step to take. He takes a deep breath and then spills in one breath, “He’s only that nice because he and my mom think of me as some perfect child.”

Michael's silent as Luke rushes through his words, and for a bit after as he tries to makes sense of them. Luke knows exactly when he does by the laugh he lets out. “I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous.”

“No it isn’t!” Luke can feel himself pouting, not liking that Michael doesn’t take him seriously. “They think I’m perfect.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt they do,” Michael continues, a giant grin still on his face. “What’s ridiculous is that you think you aren’t.”

“Excuse me?”

Michael's mouth opens slightly looking almost like disbelief. “Luke, you’re a _princess_. You love your family, and you spend every minute with them. You never get in trouble with them or with the law, and you’re about to graduate with a degree in art. I’m guessing one of the top in your class, am I wrong? You’re perfect.”

“I’m not, though.” He _used_ to be perfect. He was always honest with himself and his parents and their relationship was strong. Now, though, he's a liar and a disappointment.

“It’s not a bad thing, Luke.” Michael sets his container on the counter. “I _wish_ I was held in such a high standard by my family.”

Michael reaches his hand out to grab Luke's, but Luke doesn't let him. “I just - ” he huffs and sinks to the floor in an over dramatic display.

“We doing this on the floor then?” Luke can all but see him shrugging at his boyfriend's ridiculous behavior. “I can give that a try.” Michael walks around the counter sinks down next to Luke. Both of them have their food in their hand, though Luke notices Michael's switched to cashew chicken. “What’s got you so tense? You’re not perfect, you were saying?”

“I’m not,” Luke repeats. “I’ve been lying to them.”

Michael doesn't grin, doesn't take it as a joke as he did before. “About what?” he asks. “You don’t seem the type to lie about much of anything.”

Luke's eyes are focused intensely on his pad thai. He can't look up as he admits, “I’ve been lying about my major to them.”

“Art?”

“They think I’m about to be a lawyer,” he laughs humorlessly. It sounds ridiculous to say out loud. Michael's sitting silently and Luke can't pick his eyes up from staring at his food. He's too afraid to look. “Can you say something?

Michael doesn't answer at first, and when he does — with a quiet “Not sure I can.” — it's not what Luke wants to hear. He closes his eyes and drops his head in his hand. “How long’ve you been lying?”

“About 3 years now?” It feels like much longer, like it's been eating him up most of his life. “Halfway through my first year.”

“So you were originally going to be a lawyer?”

“Course.” The thought’s almost laughable now — that he ever thought he'd be able to be a suit or work in the corporate world. “Thought I’d change the world or something. I got turned around at one point and fell in love with art. I changed my major right away.”

Michael isn't looking at him either, Luke realizes. He's eating his food, scooping up all of the pieces of chicken, and given Luke the element of disconnect he needs to tell his story.

Yet again, another thing that makes Luke believe he could truly fall in love with this thoughtful, supportive person.

Michael finishes chewing his bite to ask, “And you didn’t tell your parents?”

“No. I didn’t,” Luke's smiling and feels a bit insane with it. "At this point I can’t even fucking remember why.” Michael's head snaps up and his eyes focus on the side of Luke's head at the swear word. He mustn't be used to Luke's more vulgar side. “I tell my mom everything. I called her the moment I made the the Dean’s List, and then two days later I called crying because I flunked a test and was afraid I’d be taken off the list. I don’t keep anything from her, but this I did.”

“And you think she'll be mad?”

“Logically, no.” Luke's thought it through a thousand times over, and it always ends on a good note in his head, but he still can't take the first step to make it a reality. “I know she'll be upset that I didn’t tell her sooner, but she'll hug me and tell me she's proud of me for being so certain in what I want to do with myself.”

Michael nods, still looking away. “But you haven’t told her yet?”

“I _can’t_ , Mikey,” Luke cries. “Every time I open my mouth, something stops me. I figure at this point it’s divine intervention and I should just give up. Let her think I’m a lawyer who does every case pro bono. Explain why I’m living in Ashton’s attic with nothing to my name.” Michael laughs a little bit, back to mocking Luke's pain, it seems. “Michael - ”

“I’m sorry.” He's still giggling a bit  “‘s just that last part was bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Luke shrugs, stirring through his food before giving up and just setting it on the ground at his side. “I don’t even know at this point what’s me overreacting and what’s genuine. I only know that this guilt is eating me away and I can’t do shit about it.”

“I really think you should swallow your fear and just tell her,” Michael advises.

Luke sits silently, thinking it over. He'd always thought that sounded so simple, it sounded so easy to just swallow the lump in his throat and admit his lie to his mom. It sounded simple, but it wasn't. It's more than _just_ fear — it's crippling and it burns Luke up whenever he thinks about it.

“But what if she hates me?”

“You _know_ that’s not going to happen, Luke,” Michael insists. Luke can feel Michael's body turning to face his. “Your mom is by far the most understanding person I’ve ever met.”

"She is,” Luke agrees. “but what if this is too much? She'd be finding out I’ve been lying to her for three years. How is she going to react?”

Michael's left hand reaches out and lands gently on Luke's thigh. “Luke.” It said so quietly. Here, on the floor, with their thai food sitting forgotten on the ground, it feels like they're alone in the world. “You introduced me to your mom as your boyfriend. Your _boyfriend_ , Luke. And the only reason she was even slightly upset was because you hadn’t told her about me sooner. Do you not see how lucky you are to have a mom that cares that much about you?”

“I know but - ”

“My mom kicked me out when I was fifteen years old,” Michael confesses, and Luke's words die in his throat. “Because I got the bright idea to tell her I’m bi. She told me it was a phase, and I said there was nothing impermanent about my love for boys.”

Luke sits. He let's everything sink in, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He can feel Michael watching him, and knows that his boyfriend doesn't want him to be overly sympathetic, to bring attention to the sadness of his situation. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, Mikey. But it doesn’t make it any easier to tell my mom.”

Michael watches Luke, making sure there's nothing left to be said, before he nods. “I understand, Luke. And whenever you think might be the right time to tell him, I’ll be by your side. Until then, I support your wanting to wait.”

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet between them. They're sitting against the island on the floor of Luke's kitchen, Michael's hand squeezing Luke’s thigh comfortingly. The Thai has gone cold, but Luke knows they aren't thinking about the food anymore.

“Did your mom really kick you out?” Luke finds himself asking.

Michael shrugs. “When she wasn’t stifling my creativity, she was stifling my sexuality.”

“ _Mikey_ \- ”

“It’d be different if I were born 15 years later, I think. She just wasn’t ready.” Michael tries to pull his hand away from Luke's leg, but Luke reaches his hand out to hold it there.

“You think that maybe one day?”

“Maybe.” Michael answers, squeezing Luke's thigh again under their hands. “But let’s not talk about that right now.” Luke nods, truly looking at Michael for the first time since their conversation began. “So then… dessert?”

☀

The weather’s eased up recently, the constant unbearable heat becoming a bit more forgiving, so when Michael shows up at Luke’s door, takes his hand and leads him to Anzac Park, he doesn’t protest.

They’ve done some absurd things in their time together, stuff that looking back on, was silly and senseless, yet still holds such a big place in his heart. Water balloons suddenly mean much more to him now.

But right now, walking through the park, holding onto each other but not speaking, Luke loves it. Their relationship exists on so many different levels; they could be somewhere new, doing something completely insane, and it’d all make sense. There’s not an adventure in the universe the two couldn’t handle, as long as they have each other.

Today they’ve done fuck all but hold hands and gallivant through the greenery of the park, and it’s still one of the best days he's ever had.

Then again, so was the night they spent together listening to old records, or the time the gang all went to the drive-in together, or when Michael sang Luke to sleep just to prove he could. Each day is a new best day, and Luke can only take that as a sign that their relationship is developing and growing into something beautiful — something that could turn into love, and Luke wouldn’t even bat an eye.

They’ve been walking across the bridge quietly, halfway to the tip of the arch, when Michael giggles suddenly. “This is going to sound cheesy,” he says, and Luke smiles instantly at his embarrassed tone. “Can you promise not to make fun of me?”

“I absolutely can’t.” Luke’s jostled a bit as Michael laughs and shoves against his shoulder. “What is it?”

Michael bites his lip before starting, “I’ve not been in many relationships.” They’re not alone on the bridge, the park is quite busy, but Michael's voice is soft and intimate, and it feels like they’re the only two in the world. “You meet a lot of people on the road, but there aren’t a lot of them willing to date me knowing there’s an expiration date.”

Luke frowns. He knows they’ve an end date, and it hurts, but he'd rather not spend his time thinking ‘what if?’ If anything, taking the risk and having Michael for this short time has made it more than worth the end. “Make it sound like you’re dying.”

“Might as well be in their eyes, you know?” The happy tone in his voice has wavered slightly. “That’s how they think of it. I’ve put up a front about it, and stuck to hooking up with girls and boys on the road when they found out a relationship wouldn’t go far.” Luke’s smart, he knows Michael isn’t saying this to make him jealous of the other people on the road, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t. “I was always a bit upset that relationships didn’t work out, but I never knew how much I was missing out on until I met you.”

“Yeah?”

Michael grins up at Luke, just as lovely as ever, if not a bit more subdued this time. “Yeah.” he picks up their joined hands and kisses Luke’s knuckles. “You’re kind of everything I’ve ever wanted.”

The feeling of being compared to the other people disappears immediately, and Luke’s left blushing. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Luke leans down to kiss him, feels it's the right thing to do after Michael confided in him — especially since it was far more corny than is the norm with Michael.

“I’ve not been in many relationships either,” Luke shares, figuring it couldn't hurt.

Michael looks surprised, but Luke's not sure how — he doesn't exactly give off an aura of a serial boyfriend. “Really?”

“I guess I'm just picky.”

Michael nods along as they hit the tip of the bridge and start their walk down. “You’ve got premium taste, don’t you?”

“I’m holding out for my Billie Joe.” Luke's not always been quick of his feet with snappy comebacks, but when he can think them up, he always feels a surge of pride.

Michael hums, a smirk forming on his face. “I’m a bit like Billie Joe, aren’t I?”

“That’s not even _close_ to what I said,” Luke laughs. “Contain your ego, Clifford.”

They’re every bit as foolish and ridiculous as they always are together. There’s never a point in time in which Luke doesn’t feel that he can joke and jab and his boyfriend, getting him just in return, and not fall a little bit deeper. They’re in tune with one another, a well-oiled machine, and Luke’s never felt so light.

“ _So_ ,” Michael emphasizes, his hand gripping tighter at Luke's as the walk down the pavement. “I was talking with Calum the other day.”

“Not sure I like that.” Luke jokes. “You two are a deadly combo.”

Michael laughs, leaning his head on Luke's shoulder. “We are, aren’t we?” The two round a corner and start walking towards a more populated area of the park. “Well, he has a friend in Adelaide I may be able to stay with when I head over.”

It takes a moment for Michael's words to sink in, and when they do, the leave Luke confused with an odd feeling beginning to form in his stomach. “When you head over to Adelaide?.

“Yeah…” There's a hesitance in his voice accompanying the news that's so clear for Luke to hear. It makes it worse, almost — that he knows how upset it’s going to make Luke, and he's talking about it anyways. “I figure I’ll head down at the end of January.”

“That’s in 5 weeks,” Luke tells him, knowing by the look on his face that he's already well aware.

Michael's bottom lip keeps finding its way between his teeth. “Or the beginning of February, maybe.”

Luke bites his tongue to hold in his anger, upset, and frustration with it all. It's the first time their impending break up has made Luke anything other than sad, and it's infuriating that _Michael_ was the one to bring it up.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Well you always talk about my music with me,” Michael shrugs. “I figure this is as much a part of it as anything else.”

It's different, Luke knows. It's different, but he doesn't know how to explain that. “You know I don’t like talking about the fact that this is ending - ”

“We have to be able to talk about it, Princess.” Michael's thumb rubs at Luke's knuckles, so Luke pulls his hand away, not wanting to be comforted. “If we don’t, the ending is going to sneak up on us, and we’ll be left confused and wondering why we weren’t more prepared.”

“Prepared for what? For you to hop a train to Adelaide and never see me again?” Luke can feel himself getting worked up, and Michael's walking quietly next to him avoiding eye contact. It puts Luke on high-alert. “ _Michael!_ ”

Michael stops in his tracks, turning to face Luke, bewilderment painted on his face. “What do you want me to say, Luke? No? Because I can’t do that. That’s how it’s going to end, and we have to be ready for that.”

It gets quiet after that, Luke not knowing what to say, not wanting to dig himself a deeper hole to wallow in. Michael's watching him, but Luke's eyes stay rooted on the pavement.

The idea of them ending is heartbreaking, it is, but what makes it so gut wrenching today is Michael's willingness to speak about leaving, seemingly with such ease, and doing so while knowing that Luke wouldn't react well.  The fight was deliberate, he realizes, and it's pissing him off.

“Look. Let’s just…” Michael stands up on his toes and pecks Luke once on the lips. What would usually have Luke giggling to himself, now has him pursing his lips together and glaring at the ground. “Let’s make the most of our time together.”

“Right.”

Luke lets Michael take his hand again, and the continue to walk through the park. Looking around and the trees and the people and the sun shining down on them, he no longer feels happy as he did earlier. Something darker has taken its place and begun to coil tightly in his abdomen. Michael knows they're ending, knows _when_ they're ending, and he's more than okay to to talk about it.

The idea of them breaking things off at the end of the summer is something Luke can deal with, and when the time comes, he knows they'll be able to kiss each other goodbye and part ways amicably. But right now, right at the peak of their romance, Luke doesn't want to think about it.

And he doesn't think he should have to.

Everything is building up in Luke's head, and it's starting to drag him into a place he doesn't want to go when the sun is shining. Michael's hand begins to feels less like a comfort and more like a weight to bear. He needs a break.

As they approach the main area of the park where children and running around and vendors are doing their best to sell to the public, Luke pulls his hand free to point to a cart. “I’m going to… ice cream.”

“I’ll come with.”

“I just,” Luke shakes his head, pausing as he does so. “I need a minute.”

Michael nods, because of course he does. He's crazy understanding, and while any other day Luke’d being melting at the thought, today it just makes it all the more frustrating.

Luke makes his way to the ice cream cart, waiting in line, stuck behind a family of five and an indecisive teenager, wondering when his life got so complicated.

“Hi!” Luke looks up to see the family and the teenager gone, and the ice cream girl looking at him expectantly. “What can I get you?”

“You’re pretty busy today,” Luke comments, voice flat, unlike it usually would be when making small talk.

“It’s always like this in the summer.” The ice cream girl smiles, fakely, though. It’s a customer smile.

“And in the winter?”

She laughs as though Luke's gone and said something funny. “Luckily I’m away for uni.”

Looking to his right, Luke can see Michael sitting alone at the benches, and it makes him want to stay at the stand longer to postpone what's sure to be more conversation about the end of summer, and he can’t think about Michael leaving.

It hurts too much.

“What are you studying?” Luke finds himself asking.

“Art History.”

Luke lights up, not quite as bright as he would've any other time, but it still makes him smile. “Me too! I also do a bit of art with it.”

The ice cream girl smiles back. “Maybe one day you’ll be in one of my books,” she says.

“I can see it now:” Luke turns slightly putting two hands in front of him and pushes them away from each other, like he's presenting a show “Sonia Delaunay meets Vera Molnár.”

She laughs again, and Luke feels refreshed not having to be so sad and angry. “So you like more abstract work?”

“It’s what I’m best at,” Luke shrugs. “I wanted to do photography but I couldn’t afford the camera.”

“Well I wanted to be a musician but I couldn’t afford the talent.” The ice cream girl smiles softly as Luke laughs at her joke. “You’re really cute.” As she says it, Luke realizes just what this conversation has been for her — flirting. He turns to search for Michael, feeling uncomfortable with the situation he put himself in, but his boyfriend isn’t at the benches. “Can I get your number?”

“I - ”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Luke?” When he hears Michael's voice, there's an instant feeling of relief, but then the angry tone sinks in and he remembers what's just happened.

Luke turns to Michael, head already shaking. “It wasn’t like that - ”

“Yeah, I fucking bet.” Michael's standing right in front of him, livid and scoffing, and it's the farthest Luke's felt from him all summer. “‘s not like we _just_ got in a fight about me leaving, and you decided to leave to flirt with the ice cream vendor — _great_ career by the way.”

Luke holds in a comment about how she’s actually studying for art history, figuring that’d be a bad place to go if he's trying to defend himself.

“No, I wasn’t flirting.”

“I was _listening_ , Luke,” Michael reminds him and Luke has to bite his lip. He knows how bad it looked but his words just aren't coming together or making any sense. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I - ”

“You know what.” Michael completely cuts the ice cream girl off by putting his hands up and speaking over him. “Forget it. I’m leaving.”

Luke suddenly has the urge to cry. “Michael - ”

“Don’t follow me.”

Luke stands useless in the park, wondering how everything got turned around so fast, and hoping more than anything _Michael_ would just turn around so they could talk.

☀

Michael doesn’t talk to him for three days.

There's been no reaching out from Michael's end — no phone calls, no visits, absolutely nothing. The last time they've spoken to each other was at the park, and it's driving Luke positively insane.

He's back to the useless mess he was at the beginning of the summer, nobody to hang out with, nothing to do. He's once again yearning for grocery trips and house work. It's pathetic and though he'd never intended to go any amount of time without Michael, he hadn't realized just how boring life would be without him.  

A new addition to his list of common activities is to hang out in Andy's home office as he's trying to do work and annoying him until he kicks Luke out.

Currently he's lying on the sofa in the corner as Andy runs numbers through his calculator. It's storming outside, the rain landing in harsh drops against the window and it's not doing anything to help Andy relax. It also doesn't help that Luke swiped Andy’s stress ball and has been attempting to throw it in the air as high as he can without hitting the ceiling for the last twenty minutes or so.

Andy starts mumbling under his breath and Luke smirks, hoping he's finally irritated him to the point of being kicked out.

“‘ve you got something to say?” he asks, sounding more smug than he has any right to.

Andy shakes his head. “It’s just.” He groans, flipping his pencil over and erasing what he’s just written down. “None of these numbers are adding up. ‘s a bit frustrating.”

Luke can feel his eyebrows raise once before falling quickly. “You’re telling me.”

If anyone in the house has a reason to be frustrated it should be Luke. Luke who’d done nothing wrong -

Okay, so he fucked up, he knows that. And it isn’t like he didn’t try to apologize. It’s been _three days_ of unanswered calls, three days of Calum turning him away at the door because “Michael isn’t here right now.” He's been moments away from tearing his hair out the entire 72 hours that Michael's been ignoring him.

All he wants to do is apologize, to express that he'd never meant any harm to Michael, and if he got another chance, he'd be willing to talk things out — no matter how much it would hurt him.

Not that he'd ever get the chance to.

After three days of receiving nothing back, Luke’s resigned to his fate; he's accepted the fact that his new lot in life is on the couch in Andy’s home office, abusing the stress ball, and nearly wearing a hole in the ceiling. He's going to die alone all because this one relationship taught him that no matter how much you try, your efforts will go unnoticed and life will fuck you over.

“Just go talk to him,” Andy sighs from his desk.

Luke chuckles to himself, feeling bitter and pessimistic. “You think I haven’t tried?”

“I think you haven’t tried hard enough.” His words stun Luke silent. He's put his heart and soul into it, calling Michael until he disconnects the line, sitting against Calum’s front door, refusing to leave until Michael comes out. Hell, he tried to scale the side of the house at one point and nearly sprained his ankle. He tried as hard as he could, and he was still turned away. “You’re always watching those chick flicks - ”

“They’re rom-coms,” Luke corrects mindlessly, thoughts running in circles around what Andy could’ve possibly meant that he hadn’t tried hard enough. “Men can watch them too.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks at his paper and curses before setting his eyes on Luke again. “You’re always watching them, and falling in love with the idea of them, but you have a chance to act one out, and you’re sitting in my office like you’ve learned nothing.”

Luke doesn’t want to admit that he’s right, not if it means he's just going to get rejected again. “Well what am I supposed to do?”

“Run after him, demand to talk to him,” Andy tells him. “And for God’s sake, Luke, _apologize_. That’s on you.”

“I - ” It all sounds easier than he is. He can’t do much else than he's been doing, and even if he manages to find a way, Michael could still laugh in his face. “What if he doesn’t want to talk?”

“Then have him listen.”

“Right.” Luke stand up off of the couch, stumbling slightly as his body acclimates to it’s new orientation. “Hey, Dad? Thanks.”

It’s after Luke’s puts his trainers on and run out the door that he remembers how hard it was raining, each drop hitting his skin quicker than the one before. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He's doing this like the movies, like the _romantics_. He has to run over.

It’s only a few blocks, and though he's soaking by the time he gets there, he doesn’t waste any time. He pounds on the door, yelling, “Let me in, Calum!” repeatedly and not ceasing with his fists until an agitated Calum throws it open.

“Michael isn’t here,” he snaps, but Luke’s not stupid.

“Bull _shit,_ Calum.”

Calum rolls his eyes leaning against the doorframe, and pulling away when the water resting there hits the back of his shirt. "He really isn’t,” Calum insist. “he's performing tonight, and he'd kill me for telling you this, but I’m sick of him moping around my flat. He's at The Victoria Club.” Luke hardly takes the time to nod, and turns around to start running, but Calum grabs his hand to stop him before he can even begin his trek. “Christ, Luke, it’s storming. Take my car.”

“Can’t.” Luke pulls his hand away. “It’s not in the movies.”

He turns and actually begins running this time. Behind him he can hear Calum’s confused, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Luke takes off down the road and out of the village, and runs the one and a half miles to The Victoria Club. He's not very active, too often it takes too strong of an effort from Ashton to get him up and outside, but for Michael, he feels like he can do anything.

When he's about halfway there, Luke loses momentum and has to take a breather, panting as he walks down the road in shame. One and a half miles is so much more than it sounds, and Luke’s body is aching for a rest. He almost gives in — almost. Along the way, he sees the church billboard. There’s a bible verse displayed as there usually is, but there’s also the date at the bottom corner, and it makes Luke pause.

In only two days, it’ll be January. In only two days, it’ll be the beginning of the end, their last few weeks together before Luke has to go back to uni and Michael continues his travels, and they never see each other again. They’ve wasted three days not speaking to each other, and they don’t have that much time left with each other.

Luke shakes himself for being such an idiot and letting their fight last this long. He takes a deep breath, cracks his neck as best he can, and continues his run, loving every agonizing step as it takes him closer to where he's meant to be.

He arrives at the club and races inside, throwing the door open, and running onto the floor. He's out of breath and moments away from coughing up a lung, but the attendants of the club are talking amongst themselves, so Luke’s not bothered — just suffering.  

The other patrons have taken notice to Luke, the tall guy on wobbly legs, slipping on the linoleum of the floor as he drips rain water everywhere. He's positively drenched, and he knows that his fringe has fallen and that he's a mess.

 _He's_ a mess, but it doesn’t matter.

Michael's on stage, finishing the last bits of a Melissa Etheridge song, mellifluous voice floating through the air, catching Luke’s ears immediately. He finishes up on stage, saying his thanks, and then he's walking down. It doesn’t take long for him to notice his boyfriend standing drenched in the middle of the floor. He heads straight for Luke, grabs his hand, and pulls him out of the main room, away from everyone’s prying eyes. Luke slips every step of the way.

“What are you doing here?” Michael demands when they’re alone.

Luke notices that Michael's hair is lying flat, less personality than it usually has. It makes him feel sick. “I like you, okay,” he says, voice low. “I like you, and I want this to last long past this summer.”

“You know it can’t,” Michael sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“I _know_ .” Luke’s aware he's raising his voice, snapping a bit with the words, but he's tired, still a bit winded, and so fucking gone for this man, and he can’t control it at this point. “And it fucking _hurts_ , Michael. It hurts so bad, and hearing you talk about it is like a hundred daggers through my heart, and it makes me want to die.” Michael stares at Luke, eyes wide and holding more emotion in them than Luke’s seen anywhere else in the past three days. “But I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, and I’m sorry.” Luke watches Michael bite the inside of his cheek and look away. “I care about you too much, Michael,” his voice has gone soft and he can’t stop the slight whine in his tone. “I don’t know how to act sometimes.”

Michael exhales harshly through his nose. “I don’t think you realize how insecure I felt seeing you flirt with that girl.”

“I _wasn’t_ flirting her, I was making conversation.” He knows he isn’t supposed to be defending himself, but getting that out of the way is important. He needs Michael to know he'd never dismiss him like that. “But I shouldn’t have been near her anyway. I shouldn’t have walked away after our fight. That was insensitive, and honestly, it was the start of our problems.”

Luke should’ve been able to catch his breath long ago, probably only a minute or two after he'd stopped running, but he's losing it again talking, rushing all of his words out in fear that if he stops, Michael won’t listen anymore. He'll leave, and Luke can’t let them happen.

Michael nods along with Luke’s words, looking more and more open as time goes on, and Luke wants to kiss him, wants to make it a big moment with fireworks and applause.

But he doesn’t — he can’t… he has to say something else first.

“I _do_ know how insecure you felt.” His words are spoken softly, but adamantly, and he makes sure to look Michael in the eyes. He's apologized, and he may never be done apologizing, but he needs to express something else before they move any further.

“Excuse me - ”

“You said I don't know how insecure you felt but I do. I really do.” Luke knows the hurt that Michael felt. If he hadn’t he mightn’t have understood the importance behind saying sorry, but he knows. And it hurts. “Every time you belittle our relationship, or talk about the end… it breaks my fucking heart.”

Michael takes in a deep breath, and Luke isn’t sure if it’s good or bad until he says, “I know,” and the weight in Luke’s chest is lifted. “And I don’t like talking about it any more than you do.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Luke, it’s coming. In a _month_. ” There’s no gentleness in the reminder, no light or comfort in his eyes. Michael's serious about it, he's saying everything Luke already knows, but it’s everything he hates, and there’s no warmth in the words to offer a reprieve. “We have four more weeks together and then we’re done. We have such little time left, and we have to be okay with it.”

Luke shakes his head. “I can’t be, Michael. I won’t ever be okay with it.”

“Luke…”

“But I’ll talk about it,” he continues. He reaches out a grabs Michael's hands in his, something he's been aching to do since Michael's first pulled him into the room and let go. “And I’ll let you talk about it. That’s what we’ve always done, we’ve talked. And I'll be alright, even if I’m not okay with it.”

Michael chuckles. It’s small and holds little humor, but it’s the first sign of light Luke’s gotten, and it feels water in a drought. “I like you _so_ much. And I’ll try to tone it down. I never want to hurt you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Luke wants to know if they’re okay, want to hear Michael say that he's done ignoring Luke’s attempts and that they can go back to the way things were.

After watching Luke with a small serene grin on his face, Michael pulls his right hand free from Luke’s and pushes a stray wet strand of hair off his forehead. “Did you run here, you idiot?”

“I had to!” Luke’s grinning so hard he can feel his dimple make an appearance. “It's just like the movies.”

“You're ridiculous.” Though Michael's words say one thing, the shine about him tells another story. “You could've at least taken your car. The rain would give it a nice wash, don’t you think?”

Luke shakes his head and ignores the jibe at his car, thinking instead of how romantic it was to run instead. “Taking the car is lazy and this needed to be a big gesture. I needed to apologize in the best way possible.”

“So should we kiss and make up then?

He wants nothing more than to kiss Michael and end this stupid fight but first - “Hold that thought.”

He grabs Michael's hand and pulls him out of the room, and through the main area of the club. “Luke?” Michael's confused voice asks behind him. “What are you doing?” But Luke ignores him and pulls him out of the main doors and into the storm. “Oh my _god, Luke!”_ They stop in the middle of the entryway, just out of the coverage and therefore in the edge the rain. “Luke,” Michael groans, arms going up to uselessly cover his head. “I’m _soaking_.”

“We have to kiss in the rain,” Luke insists.

“What on Earth for?”

“Because it’s just like the movies, and you got yourself a _romantic_ ,” he sings, feeling butterflies in his stomach when Michael giggles at the small inside joke.

He leans down and kisses his boyfriend, feeling the rain against their skin and the magic in the air. Their time is coming to end, but they’re making the most of it. At this point, that’s all they can do.


	3. We Get By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I can see everything,” Michael marvels. “The whole village.”_
> 
> _He's right, of course. From where they sit, there's not a bit of land unseen. It's breathtaking, especially knowing what this village means to their relationship, but that's not what Luke's eyes are drawn to. He can't stop watching Michael watch the view. His wide green eyes and pink lips, caught halfway through a gasp — he's beautiful, and given the right time, Luke could truly fall in love with him._

The first day of January hits with a refreshing change in weather. The temperature drops, making a breeze float through the village, and Luke thinks it the perfect opportunity to drag Michael out of the house and make good on his promise to take his boyfriend hiking.

Despite the coolness in the air, it’s still humid out, and the physical activity has them both sweating. Luke, who’s taken this track a few times before — whenever he's back in town, really — is leading the way while Michael trails behind more than a substantial amount. Though listening to his tiny huffs and muttered complaints would annoy anybody else, Luke finds it endlessly endearing.

Then again, anything his boyfriend does is absolutely adorable.

Beginning today, it’s officially their last month together. Luke’s doing everything in his power to make it worth it. Not that the past two months haven’t been positively magical, of course, but with only four or so more weeks left, they have to make every moment count. This is what they’ll be remembering when it’s all over.

From behind him, Luke hears a squeal. When he turns around, he sees Michael on the ground, his foot next to a rather perfectly placed rock. Luke can’t help but laugh — it’s refreshing to not be the clumsy one for a moment.

“You know,” Michael pants out when Luke turns around, not helping his boyfriend up from his fall. “When you said hike, I wasn't thinking we'd be walking through creeks and forest and shit. Where are the mountains?”

Luke resists the urge to tell him where they’re going, wanting to see his honest reaction to the view instead. He smirks, not turning back to say, “I'm sure they're around here somewhere.”

“Are you _kidding_ me? We haven’t even started yet?” he sounds so incredulous that Luke has to laugh. “Stop laughing,” Michael yells. His voice is closer than it was before, but he's still trailing Luke by a few feet. “It’s not funny, and would you - _Luke_!” When he turns, he sees Michael practically throwing himself over a fallen tree trunk that’s nearly as tall as he is. “My legs are shorter than your giraffe appendages. Could you please wait up?”

“Or you could just grow.”

There’s a laugh, but Luke knows it isn’t one of humor. “You should be glad you're so far ahead of me, Princess, or I might just try and fight you.”

Luke holds his comments behind his smile and continues walking. He figures Michael is suffering enough, and doesn’t need to be wasting his breath on more insults — because heaven knows Michael can’t hold his words back.

The hike continues, neither one of them extending the conversation. Though, it’s not completely silent — the birds are chirping, the wind is whistling, and the water is running through the streams audibly so. Not to mention, Michael's grunts of effort are echoing through the trees. Luke’s enjoying just being in nature, feeling the air around him, but Michael’s having a difficult time. When they come to a wide creek, only a fallen tree to help them across without walking through the murky water, Luke reaches out and helps Michael make his way, enjoying just being near him, even if he's mumbling obscenities under his breath the entire time.

Despite the rather easy trail they're walking, the terrain not as rugged as it is in denser parts of the woods, Michael looks more than a bit miserable. He's definitely out of practice, and with the adorable way he's panting, Luke's not sure how he even made through the woods to the pond a few weeks ago. It's a miracle he didn't pass out walking to the car before they left the house.

It's not often Luke gets the opportunity to be the more capable one during a hike. Being best friends with Ashton Irwin pretty much reduces him to being the out of shape giant trailing behind, consistently nagging about how much longer they've got.

“ _Seriously_ ,” Michael groans, his feet slapping harshly on the wet ground next to the stream. “How much… how much longer is there?”

“I promise it's not more than than twenty minutes,” Luke says, teasing. They're almost there, but it's too easy to mess with Michael.

“ _Uhn_?” It's pathetic, exhausted, and Luke finds himself charmed as shit. “Could we at least stop for a minute? For water? Or to turn back around?”

At most of the questions, Luke just grins and maintains his path, but at the last one, he finds himself stopping to face Michael, a single laugh forcing itself out. “Turn back around?” At the exasperated tone, Michael rolls his eyes and drinks from his water bottle. “Michael we're about nine-tenths of the way there, why would we turn around and waste every minute we've just spent getting here?”

“Because then I could go home and shower,” he says. A smirk forms on his face, and he adds, "Maybe you could shower with me.”

“We can do that after we get there - ”

“Oh, we most certainly can not,” Michael snaps, his eyes are hard and he sounds serious, all signs of his teasing gone, but the corner of his mouth is slightly tilted, showing he's not _completely_ upset. “You're not going near any of my parts for the rest of the summer if I have to take one more step in that direction.”

Luke can't see him going through with that threat, but even so. “Michael. _Please_.”

They stare each other down, Michael's eyes slitted and determined as Luke's are pleading. Michael eventually sighs, giving in. “Lead the fucking way I guess.” Luke grins victoriously and kisses Michael before getting pushed away. “No sex for the summer.”

“Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts.”

For the rest of the hike, Michael stays mostly quiet save fore the occasional grunt. Also disregarding the squeak he lets out when he nearly falls into a small hole in the ground.

When they finally reach the peak, or really, _their_ peak, as it's not technically the highest point to be reached in town, Luke stands still, staring at his boyfriend, waiting for a reaction. It doesn't happen immediately like he'd hoped. In lieu of being amazed by the sight, Michael spends the first three minutes they're at the edge of the trail hunched over and open-mouth panting towards the floor dramatically. Luke rubs his back as he coughs a bit, figuring it's best to let Michael calm down before making him sit and take everything in.

It's all for show, he's certain. Michael's always been one to embellish how he's actually feeling to make a point. Luke can tell the exact moment Michael lets the theatrics die down. As he looks up from where he's been grasping his knees, he takes in the view, and a pulls a shallow gasp in through his teeth.

“Woah…”

Just over the edge of the cliff they're standing on is the village - Hillvue. From the servo they met at to the two houses they seem to run back and forth between daily, this cliff shows it all. Where they stand is an all access pass to their memories, their time spent together.

And Michael seems to be taking it all in with a childlike wonder.

He kisses Luke on the cheek lightly, just a peck, as he keeps his eyes on the village, and then pulls away to admire the view at face value. Figuring they're going to be there for awhile, Luke sits on the edge of the cliff, long legs dangling free, and then pulls Michael over to sit alongside him. He goes easy and doesn't say anything. It’s silent as they both enjoy their respective views, and it’s everything that love should feel like, but Luke holds back that thought.

“I can see everything,” Michael marvels. “The whole village.”

He's right, of course. From where they sit, there's not a bit of land unseen. It's breathtaking, especially knowing what this village means to their relationship, but that's not what Luke's eyes are drawn to. He can't stop watching Michael watch the view. His wide green eyes and pink lips, caught halfway through a gasp — he's beautiful, and given the right time, Luke could truly fall in love with him.

“Should we head back?” Luke finds himself asking, doing whatever he can to stop from saying what something he'll regret.

He makes to stand, but Michael’s fingers wrap around his wrist, a serene look on his face as he pulls Luke back down.

"Not just yet.”

☀

Back in Sydney, Luke’s dreams were always a bit odd. They were filled with abstract bits of the art he was studying, and complex idea fragments for future projects. He'd never thought much of it as they became such a common thing. Now that he's back home, spending his days in Michael's company, his dreams are much more tangible, much more real.

Because every day with Michael is a dream come true.

He finds himself dreaming of the most mundane things — walks in the park on a chilly autumn day, ice skating, planting flowers in the garden when spring starts to arrive. He dreams of prolonging their time together, of taking this amazing summer and making it last. Sometimes, when Luke wakes up from his dreams of forever and Michael isn’t there, real life feels like a nightmare. There’s nothing he fears more than waking up and not having Michael by his side.

Even though he knows it’s going to be an everyday thing soon, to wake up alone and without a boyfriend to call to his own, he begins latching on tightly to the comfort he feels around Michael. It may make it a bigger let down at the end of the summer when he has to say goodbye, but for now, being able to hold Michael tight and feel content, it’s more than worth it.

Luke’s awoken slowly from yet another glorious dream about Michael by a pair of lips kissing his gently. He responds with little effort, still half-asleep, until the lips are taken away. Without opening his eyes, he mumbles, “Morning,” before turning on his side.

“It's three in the afternoon, Princess,” Michael's voice replies. Soon there’s a body landing softly on the bed next to his. “‘s hardly morning.”

After having breakfast with his parents earlier, Luke was still feeling a bit tired from the night before. Their small group of friends decide to stay out at the pub until closing time, and Luke came home, drunk off his ass, and had a difficult time falling asleep. He decided to make up for lost sleep by taking what he'd hoped would be a short one hour nap.

It’s been nearly five.

Luke hums, not caring much for Michael calling him out, and cuddles into the other man, arms wrapped around his waist and face lying against his neck. Michael laughs, his hand landing tenderly on the nape of Luke’s neck. “You going back to sleep, Princess?”

“Mhm.” he snuggles farther into Michael's collarbone, making his boyfriend giggle and pull him out.

“You can’t waste the day in my neck,” he teases.

“Watch me.” Luke falls back into Michael's body, and Michael lets him, but not without continuing to laugh at his tired boyfriend.

They lie together in the silent room for a while. The sun peeks through a sliver in his curtains and shines a line on the bed below them, and Luke finds himself staring at it instead of falling back asleep. He doesn’t want to, his dreams can be great, but nothing lives up to the feeling of being wrapped around Michael in the real world.

Eventually they have to get out of bed, Michael insists, dragging Luke to the kitchen. He's still a bit groggy, certain there’s sleep in his eyes, but his arms feel too heavy to reach up and wipe them. There’s a brown paper bag on the counter, he notices, and Michael pulls them right over to it.

“What’s all this?” Luke asks, voice thick as he tries to hold back a yawn.

“I was up early and decide to go grocery shopping for Calum,” he explains, starting to reach into the bag. “But then I saw a box of frozen spag bol and about lost my mind remembering when you tried to cook it.”

Luke rolls his eyes, glad when Michael pulls out some kind of small green plant instead of a frozen spag bol. “Very funny, Michael. I’m so glad my misfortune still amuses you to this day.”

“I’m not saying it doesn’t, Princess, but that’s not the point.” Michael laughs at the blank face Luke gives him in return. “I figured I’d teach you how to cook.”

“Let me guess.” Luke takes a look at the tomatoes now in Michael's hand and has to hold in a sigh of irritation. “You picked up everything for spag bol, didn’t you?”

“Of course I didn’t. I’m not a monster.” he reaches in again as he rolls his eyes. It’s cute enough to make Luke smile, at least until Michael pulls out a box and slams it down on the counter, the contents inside shaking at the impact. “It’s lasagna.”

It’s not that he finds it funny, or even that he's angry enough that he reacts oddly, but the dramatic flare in which Michael announced it has Luke laughing. “Oh because that’s so much better!”

“It _is_ ,” Michael insists, smiling alongside Luke. “I promise by the end of today, you’ll never burn another sauce again.” He says the words with an undeserved confidence as Luke’s just about the worst cook in the world. He's doubtful he'll make it past washing the vegetables without a tragic accident, but Michael ignores his sour face. “Are you ready?”  

He can’t do much else but shrug. “I mean I can’t really say no, can I?”

“You absolutely cannot.”

As Michael finishes unloading the groceries, Luke ties rubs the sleep out of his eyes and tries to push his hair off his forehead. He watches on as Michael searches the kitchen cupboards, taking out bowls, seasonings, knives, and just about everything Luke never uses. He's magnetic, like always, but now he's teaching something to Luke, passing off a little bit of his grace, and Luke, once again, can’t help but feel like this is so much more than a summer fling.

There’s love here.

He wouldn’t say he's in love with Michael, wouldn’t say they’re at the level where it’s appropriate to say those words to each other, but there’s a spark between them, a flicker of what could be, if only they had more time together.  

“Now,” Michael slams a cutting board onto the counter, startling Luke out of his haze. “I figured instead of making the pasta from scratch, we’d get it in a box instead.”

“You sure it’s not because you don’t know how to make it from scratch?” Luke teases, feeling overjoyed with just how quickly Michael's green eyes narrow at him.

“I can go back to the store if you want to play that game,” Michael levels, his voice dropping, slowing with dramatic intent. “We can make it from scratch, add another hour on our cooking time.”

There’s not a single bone in Luke’s body that actually believes Michael would go out of his way to add more to their already long list of things to do. He's the kind of person that makes himself fall asleep early on Luke’s sofa so Liz can’t possibly send him home. He would never go to the store just to spite Luke.

“Do it.” They stare each other down, neither moving a muscle as they both wait for the other to crack. It’s when Michael smirks and grabs his keys off the counter that Luke breaks. “No, no, no,” he rushes out. “I was kidding.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” he mocks. “Using that plausible deniability I’m so good at.”

“ _Michael,_ ” Luke yells, a giggle falling out alongside it. “You’re _really_ bad at using that phrase.”

Michael all but cackles, throwing his keys back on the counter and goes over the the sink to wash his hands. Luke follows, still grinning to himself, doing the same as Michael, knowing he'll probably be made to do the same amount of — if not more — work than him.

Pretty soon they’re standing at the counter and Michael's forcing a knife into Luke’s hand and grabbing one for himself.

“Now before we start,” Luke asks, “will I need to cut anything?”

Michael smiles, looking pointedly at the sharp knife in Luke’s hand and the veggies they’ve lined up in front of them. “You’ll need to cut a lot of things.”

“Alright,” Luke nods, letting the confirmation reassure what he was already certain of. “Let me just like, mentally prepare.”

“Jesus Luke, it’s not that hard. Come here, and help me dice this onion.” Michael grabs the onion and runs it under water really quick. He starts to cut it in half on his board, keeping one for himself and passing the other to Luke.  

“Do you have to rinse onions?” Luke asks, watching Michael begin to peel the outside of the vegetable. Luke does the same. “They’re in a shell, so they should be fine, right?”

Michael shrugs, not taking his eyes off of his work. “I’m not sure exactly _what_ should be rinsed, but just to be safe I rinse all my fruits and veg.” He looks up Luke then, and smiles. “Now just do what I do.”

Not wanting to risk ruining the dish with something as minor as poorly chopped onions, Luke watches Michael's hands closely, making sure everything he does is as close to perfect and he possibly can get.

Michael looks over and sees Luke’s intense gaze on his hands and laughs. “Luke, watch your own hands as well. Can’t have you cutting a pretty finger off.”

“Of course _you_ wouldn’t want that.”

Michael chuckles, a filthy smirk gracing his face for only a moment before grabbing the onion off of Luke’s plate and finishing the dicing. “Mind grabbing me a pot, Princess?”

“Like for soup?” he asks, already walking away.

“Yes, but maybe a bit bigger.”

He can hear the laugh in Michael's voice and knows that this is all amusing for his boyfriend. Though any other person in the world laughing at his attempts would push his spirit down and make the whole experiment uncomfortable, it’s different with Michael. It’s less like he's being laughed _at_ , and more like he's making his boyfriend smile.

He can’t be mad about that.

When he sets the pot on the counter, Michael throws the diced onions in. Then he reaches forward and grabs two separate packets of meat, placing them both between Luke and the pot. “Go ahead, and open those,” he instructs, “and add them to the pan.”

Luke does as Michael tells him, opening the sausage and minced beef, struggling far more than he should with simple deli packaging. Michael watches on patiently, though, small grin playing on his face, until Luke’s successful, placing the meat in with the onions.

“Should I put it on the stove?” Luke asks, throwing the soggy packing into the garbage.

“You should!” Michael's standing back, letting Luke do the bigger tasks, and Luke can’t say he minds. He places the pot on the stove and turns it on. “Now have you ever cooked beef before?”

“Never.”

Michael comes up closer, peeking his head in the pot. “What you’re going to want to do is break up the meat with a wooden spoon, and stir it around until it’s all cooked.” He backs away as Luke flounders trying to find a wooden spoons in the drawers. When he does, Michael grins and holds up a small vegetable. “As you do that, I’m going to dice this garlic.”

For a few minutes, they’re both silent, only the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board and the meat cooking bubbles between them. It’s nice, the small moment they can have to just work. It won’t last long, Luke knows, not with how absolutely mindless he is. Any moment left to his own devices in the kitchen is a fire hazard.

When the cutting stops, Michael doesn’t immediately make to pour it in the pot, and Luke can feel his eyes on the back of his head. “How do I know when it’s cooked?” He finds himself asking, wanting nothing more than to get to the next part.

“I’ll show you.” he approaches from behind, the only sign being his hand gently on Luke’s elbow as he peaks into the pot again while Luke stirs away.

They’ve only got so long left together, a thought that’s constantly in the back of Luke’s mind. Standing here, with Michael being so amazing and teaching Luke to do something he's absolute shit at, he wants nothing more than to just stop. To freeze this moment and keep it for the rest of his life.

Tomorrow he'll wake up and have another day with Michael, but he won’t have this moment anymore, it’ll be gone just like that. And it’ll go like that for the rest of the month, Michael always doing these brilliant things that’ll make Luke so thankful to be exactly where he is at that exact moment, but in the morning, the moment will be gone.

And one day, he'll wake up, and Michael won’t be there. There will be cool sheets behind him and a city full of strangers. All these memories he's collecting, holding tightly in his mind, they’ll all be the past. One day, there will be no more memories left to make.

It makes Luke want to hold on that much longer.

“Alright,” Michael pulls his hand from Luke’s elbow and puts it over Luke’s hand on the wooden spoon. “Do you see the difference in color between these two sides?” He gestures between the grey and the brown sections of the sausage. “The brown side is cooked. You want to make every piece look like that all the way around.”

“How long does that usually take?”

“Not long,” Michael chuckles. “You have a few more minutes.” He disappears from Luke’s side for a moment, but soon returns to slide the garlic in. “You may want to break the meat up a bit more, Princess.”

Everything seems so easy on Luke, now. He doesn’t feel as he did with the spag bol mess up. There’s no spike of humiliation rolling through him as he burns nearly every aspect of the dish, Michael's making sure he doesn’t take a step in the wrong direction. And even if he were to somehow make everything go up in flames, Michael would be kind about everything, helping Luke clean up, and only making jokes within Luke’s comfort level.

Nothing less would be expected from him. It seems more and more lately that Michael's always helping Luke face his embarrassments. Anytime there’s a sour note, Michael adds some sugar and makes it sweet. It’s wonderful, and has Luke cherishing the ground Michael walks on. But most of all, it makes him want to trust Michael with his life — for his life.

Some cabinets are opening and closing behind Luke, the sound echoing with a volume that only Michael could manage. It stops quickly, and then Michael comes behind Luke, reaches around his waist and turns the stove off.

“Take that pot and drain everything in the colander in the sink.” Luke does as Michael says, even shaking it out a bit in an attempt to look like he isn’t completely oblivious in the kitchen. “You’re doing great, love.”

Luke blushes a bit at Michael's compliment, turning an even deeper red when Michael laughs at color filling his face. Michael comes over and together they pour the meat back in the pan and rest it on the stove again.

They go back to the cutting boards, and Michael has Luke adding tomatoes, tomato paste, a bit of sugar and a few green things alongside the meat. Luke wasn’t really listening as Michael named the plants he was cutting up. As he's sprinkling salt and pepper, Michael turns the pot on low and drags Luke away.

“Are we done?”

“Not quite.” Michael grabs some kind of cheese and puts it near Luke, and then goes to the cupboard next to the refrigerator, coming back with an egg. “Do you know how to beat an egg?”

“I think so,” Luke says. “That’s just with a fork, right?” He mimics the motion with his hands.

Michael watches for a moment, mouth slightly open, the corner of his lip barely tiled. If Luke had to guess, he looks almost suspicious. “I feel like you’re pretending to be this unaware.”

The comment makes Luke drops his hands. “Is it not a fork then?”

“No, it is a fork,” Michael affirms. “But you just sound so clueless.”

“Well I don’t have to help you finish - ”

“Beat the egg, Hemmings,” Michael snaps, cutting him off.

It has Luke smiling as he grabs a fork out of the utensils drawer and gets to work cracking the egg open and beating it. It’s no surprise that the best joy he has is getting a reaction out of Michael. So often, it seems, Michael's the one that has Luke surprised or blushing or quick to temper. Those small, triumphant moments that Luke corners Michael into showing a reaction are music to Luke’s ears.

Slowly, Michael pours some ricotta into the bowl alongside the egg, having Luke continue to stir. “Can you grab the rest of the parsley we portioned out and put it in there as well?” he asks. Luke looks over to the mess of green vegetables and he wants to start panicking. For the life of him, he can’t remember what parsley even is, let alone where it is among other similar plants. Michael saves him, in the end, saying, “It’s the one in the yellow dish,” without even looking up. Luke reaches over and add it in, as Michael puts some salt and pepper in as well. “Now mix.”

Just like with all of Michael's other instructions, Luke’s more than happy to comply. So far, everything seems fine, like an actual recipe for actual food that they’ll actually be able to eat in the end. This is probably something that Michael's used to, but for Luke it’ll be a miracle.

On his right, Michael leans on the counter and watches. All of the food that’d been brought over has slowly disappeared, and it leads Luke to believe they’re nearing the end of the process, and he says a small prayer in thanks.

As he's mixing everything, the front door opens, and while Luke can’t see from where he's standing, he soon knows it’s his mom based on the “Luke, you home?” that echoes throughout the house just after the door shuts.

“In the kitchen,” he hollers back. Michael's eyebrows spike at the volume.

Liz trails in, carrying books stacked in her arms. She's smiling, like usual, but it grows — along with her eyes — when she sees Michael leaning next to Luke. “Hello, boys,” she greets, setting her books on the counter. “Michael, always lovely to have you here.”

“Thank you for allowing me. Your home is beautiful.” Luke has to hide in his smile. Last time one of Luke’s parents interrupted their dinner time, Michael greeted them the same way. It’s like he has a script that’s guaranteed to get in a mother’s good book.

“Well you’re obviously helping the appeal,” Liz jokes. “Something smells amazing.”

“Luke here is making lasagna.”

Luke rolls his eyes, can’t help when Michael is placing all of credit on him. “Michael's making it,” he corrects. “He's just having me cut and stir.” With all of the effort that Michael's putting into making this successful, he doesn’t deserve to have all his credit given away.

“Luke,” Michael laughs. “That’s all cooking is.”

Liz leans forward, closer to the couple. “You’ll have to forgive my son. He's never done much more than burn dishes.”

“Thanks, mom,” Luke sighs, dropping his fork so it audibly lands against the rim of the glass bowl. “I’m loving the support.”

Michael laughs, and Liz chuckles. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “This smells delicious. I’m sure it’ll taste good too.”

“Thank you.”

“Just please keep your eye on him, Michael,” she adds, a glint in her eye as she teases her son.

“Can do.”

Being the butt of their jokes isn’t great, but Luke can’t help but be thankful that Michael gets along so well with his parents. Ashton once confided in Luke that his mom wasn’t a fan of Bryana, and it showed in how they acted in each other’s presence. It wasn’t the whole reason why they didn’t work out, but it definitely attributed to their breakup in some form, Ashton had said.

Luke can see that, can see how animosity between his boyfriend and his parents could affect the outcome of their relationship. That’s not an issue with Michael, though. Even though his family and Michael don’t cross paths often, there’s a closeness there, familiarity that’s more than just casual, and it has Luke’s heart soaring.

Were this more than just a summer fling, and Luke still wants to hope it could be, the fact that Michael and Liz can be in each other’s company and hold a more than pleasant conversation… well it’s a good sign that there’s a possibility for a future between them. Something permanent.

“By the way,” Liz says, turning her attention to Luke. “The university called this morning. They wanted to know when you’d have the payments in for the _honors_ society.”

“Right. I’d forgotten about that.” It’s been a long summer — though not nearly as long as it should’ve been — and everything uni related had completely slipped his mind.

Liz laughs, clearly shocked that Luke hadn’t mentioned anything to her. “Forgotten? How could you have _forgotten_ that you’re going to be in the honors society?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Luke insists. He's unable to make eye contact as any talk of uni turns him into the embodiment of guilt.

“Not that big…” Liz scoffs, trailing off as he turns away. “Michael, has my wonderful Luke told you he's going to be a _lawyer_?”

“He, uh - ” Things are tense in the room, both Luke and Michael knowing there’s something being hidden from Liz, who’s showing nothing but pride for her son. "He may have mentioned something.”

“He's going to be a lawyer _and_ on the honors society, and he just _forgot_ to tell me.”

Luke bites his lip. He knows his mom isn’t upset with him, and that her raised voice isn’t the result of anger, but of astonishment. She's proud, Luke knows, yet he still feels like he's being accosted. “It slipped my mind, honest.”

Liz hums, still smiling, pleasant as ever. “Well, I’ll talk to Andy, see if we can’t rush the payment out. He’ll be so proud.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, dear,” she grins. Luke wants to tell her about his major — at this point it’s nearly always on his mind. It seems like if not the perfect time, then at least the necessary one, and Michael's on his left, looking expectantly at him. He knows it’s something he has to do, but he just can’t. Not now, at least. “Michael, you should come with us to a family barbecue in a few weeks. We’d love to have you there.”  

Michael grins at the invitation, nodding along. “Andy actually already invited me. I’ll definitely be there.”

“That was the goodbye party, Mikey,” Luke corrects. “This is just a barbecue.”

“Two separate events.” Across the table from them, Liz holds up two fingers and wiggles them.  

“Well then I’ll be at both.”

Liz grins. “Perfect!” She swipes her stack of books off the table, and the knot in Luke’s chest begins to loosen. “Alright, well I’ll be upstairs if either of you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Liz replies to Michael, smiling teasingly as she shifts her eyes subtly to Luke for a moment. “And good luck.” With a wink as her goodbye, she parts from them and heads out of the kitchen.

“You lot sure have plenty of barbeques, don’t you?” Michael asks. Luke nods, lips thinning to keep himself from saying everything he hates about keeping a secret from his family. Michael can, of course, tell that Luke needs a break, and he's more than thankful when Michael gestures to the cheese mixture and says, “Alright we need to layer the sauce, the pasta, and the cheese together. Do you have a baking dish?”  

Luke nods, and they get to work finishing the lasagna. It’s not as light as it was before, but the deep tension doesn’t stay so heavy for long. If there’s one thing Michael's good at, it’s taking Luke to a better place, fixing all the wrong feelings in his life.

And when the lasagna finishes cooking an hour later, Luke feels confident in the fact that he'd never tasted something so delicious, and that he'd have never been able to do this if it wasn’t for Michael.

☀

Just as Luke was set to call it a night, to change into his pajamas and settle into the couch, maybe watch a scary movie, Michael comes running into the house, forgoing the doorbell and all associated formalities completely. He's winded, face flushed, and it altogether looks like he'd ran straight from Calum’s house without stopping to rest.

“Stop what you’re doing,” he all but shouts. Luke’s standing in the kitchen, empty glass in his hand, as he was about to pour himself some water. He doesn’t, as per Michael's request, and instead chooses to stare at his boyfriend, one eyebrow cocked in bemusement. “Do you have any plans tonight.”

“Don’t think so,” Luke says, eyes shifting to the empty glass he's holding. If he'd had any plans whatsoever, they’d be with Michael — the other boy occupying every corner of Luke’s life.

The grin on Michael's face makes Luke sure he's becoming a co-conspirator , and that’s not something he's sure he likes. “Grab your shoes, Princess.”

It’s nine at night, not much would be open sans the few bars in Hillvue, but in joggers and a band tee, Michael's not exactly dressed for a night on the town. Luke was really looking forward to snuggling on the couch, even better with Michael there, to finally watch the new horror film his mom had just bought, but looking at the excitement and determination on his boyfriend’s face, Luke can’t say no. He actually physically cannot as Michael starts pulling him towards the door before he could even get a word in. Luke’s absolutely clueless as to where they’re going. It’s not until they’ve been on the road for a solid half an hour and Luke sees the “ _Leaving Tamworth_ ” sign that he realizes they’re going on a road trip, and a long one at that.

Even so, he's no idea where they’re headed, and Michael won’t answer his questions.

That’s not to say it isn’t fun, though. He'd be insane to think he could be bored during any time spent with Michael. Just sitting next to each other, hands linked over the center console, listening to the radio get fuzzier and fuzzier as they drive past the edge of town, is just as fulfilling as spending the night on the couch. He's with Michael and that’s all that matters.

Once the radio gets incomprehensible, Michael has to untangle their fingers as he searches for a station worth listening to. There’s a strange look of excitement on his face, even as he struggles to hit a solid channel with decent music, and Luke can’t help but melt at it. Even as Luke’s being kidnapped (of sorts), dragged away from his home and family (for the night), and kept in the dark (literally and figuratively), he still finds himself charmed as hell.

When the beginning notes of a familiar song come floating through the car, Michael pulls his hand away and victoriously fist pumps at his success. He looks to Luke when he laughs and with his smile still wide, he announces, “I brought snacks!”

It comes from out of nowhere, and Luke’s about to ask why he brought it up in the first place, but then Michael's reaching between Luke’s legs in the passenger seat to pull up a plastic bag. He tosses it on Luke’s lap and then turns his attention back to the road. As soon as Luke opens the bag, he can’t help but positively cackle at his findings.

“ _Michael_ ,” Luke all but screams. “There are three chocolate bars and one cola.” The cola bottle is half empty, as well. It’s about the funniest thing he's seen all day.

“I didn’t say I catered the damn thing, Luke,” Michael _tsks_ . “I brought _snacks_.”

It’s so completely Michael that Luke has a hard time not finding it endearing that he'd try to pass this off as appropriate road trip cuisine. “We’ll stop at a service station or something on the way if we get hungry,” he offers, if only to keep himself from saying something ridiculous, like how much he wants to keep Michael and his absurd antics forever.

A new song comes on the radio, and Michael starts singing along, quiet and beautiful as always, as though it’s Luke’s own personal concert. It’s the best soundtrack he could’ve asked for, but it still doesn’t do enough to stop Luke from watching the road and wondering what on Earth they’re doing out this late. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“It’s a secret,” Michael teases.

“Seriously?”

Michael grins, a mischievous thing. “Genuinely.” He leans forward and turns the music up even louder. “Now be quiet, I love this song.”

Luke gives in and joins Michael in singing. It’s a long drive, or so he's guessing, and he's stuck in the car regardless of how he spends his time, so he figures nothing would be better than to roll the windows down and scream-sing along to his favorite songs with perhaps the most important person in the world to him. Being with Michael is like opening his heart, feeling something he never knew he needed, and now doesn’t think he could live without.

It’s with that thought that he eventually falls asleep. It’s late, he's clueless as to where they’re going, and his seat is reclined just enough for him to relax. He doesn’t even realize he's dozed off until he wakes up to the car jerking as Michael parks it.

It’s too dark out to see much more than a few trees outside the window, and the radio has been turned down so it’s a mere hum in the background. “Are you going to kill me?” Luke asks, voice deep as he's incredibly groggy.

“Not yet, Princess,” Michael says. He twists the key, so the car turns off and the radio stops playing. “I’m saving that for our anniversary.”

“Wonderful.”

Luke snuggles into his seat deeper, ready to go back to sleep as it can’t be later than four with how dark the sky is, but Michael shakes him awake before he eyes can fully close. “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me again, Luke.”

“It’s pitch black out, Michael,” Luke groans. He turns in his seat to face Michael, having trouble with the seatbelt stopping him. “What’re we doing?”

“Waiting.”

Luke hums, eyes heavy, but he readjusts himself and the seat again — this time so he's sitting up. He unbuckles his seatbelt as he does, realizing the discomfort is unnecessary now that they aren’t driving.

It’s quiet, the car turned off, but with the windows still down all the way, a cool breeze passing through the car with the night. They really can’t see much, and Michael's not saying much, and it’s driving Luke insane with questions in his head.

“Where are we then?” Luke asks.

“Macquarie, I think.” Michael turns in his seat, eyes narrowed as he thinks. Luke doesn’t mind the uncertainty of their exact whereabouts, though, as it’s the first time he's gotten a sincere response from Michael. “We passed a sign for the town a bit back, but I’m not sure how long ago that was.”

“Macquarie? That’s so far, Michael. Why did we - ”

“You’ll see.” Michael smiles something soft, kind, and full of a million unsaid things. It’s as much of an answer as Luke’s going to get.

They both fall quiet again, and Luke has no choice but to try and make out what he can in the distance. Beside them, he can see trees, and behind the car there’s a some gravel, but not much more is visible past a few feet. It’s when he looks in front of them that he's stunned silent. There’s nothing to be seen, no foliage, no makeshift road. It’s empty.

The only visible thing for miles is the sky, and even it has nothing to show, Luke notices, looking as he close as he can for even the slightest blemish, but he comes up dry.

“There aren’t any stars out,” Luke says, voice a bit stunned. “Wonder where they all are.”

“They’re out there someone,” Michael comments after looking himself. “You just can’t see them because I shine brighter than they do.”

Luke chuckles, his laughs coming out a bit lethargic as he's still quite tired, but he adores Michael too much to not find humor in his nonsense. “You’re ridiculous,” he teases, shaking his head. “How long are we going to sit here.”

“As long as it takes, Princess. I’d make yourself comfortable.”

Luke does, as much as he can with limited leg room. He can’t enjoy himself in the silence, nothing but the sound of his breathing and the slight whistle of the wind to keep him company. “How was the drive?” he asks, more out of necessity for sound than legitimate wonder. “Did it go smoothly?”

“Are you trying to small talk me right now, Hemmings?” His voice is astonished, smirk resting gently on his lips. Luke wants to kiss him.

But then again, when doesn’t he?

“It’s dead quiet, and it’s too dark to take in any view,” he complains. “What else do I do? I can’t just sit here.”

Michael shrugs, but doesn’t spend much time thinking on it. “I don’t know, love. Get creative. Let’s play a game.”

Luke holds in his argument and looks around, trying to think of games he and his brothers used to play when they were younger. Without any actual view, though, he comes up blank, getting more and more agitated with himself for not being able to enjoy the atmosphere.

Eventually, he gives up trying to think of something and deadpans, “I spy something black.”

At first, Michael doesn’t answer, doesn’t spit back with his usual fire, and Luke believes him to be ignoring him, but he eventually mutters, “Prick,” under his breath, and Luke can’t help but giggle. “So tell me about life at home this summer,” Michael says, giving in to the small talk. “How’s Liz treating you?”

Luke sighs, the usual guilt that accompanies thoughts of his mom sparking. “She's lovely as always.”

“What an absolute bitch,” Michael suddenly scoffs, voice louder than either of them have been yet. “How dare she be lovely as always, am I right?”

Luke rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s mock-anger. “It’s not that. I love my mom, you know that. She's always so supportive and it drives me insane.”

“How is that a bad thing?” Michael asks.

"She keeps going on and on about _her son: the future lawyer_ ,” his voice rises slightly, a terrible impression of his mother. “The guilt is eating me up inside.”

There’s a silent moment, Michael not speaking up just yet. Luke can see his lips thinning, though, and knows he has something to say. “Luke,” he sighs, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s time you tell her the truth. She's going to find out eventually, and it needs to come from you.”

“I _know_.” It’s been three years of him needing to speak up, but he just can’t. “And I want to, but it’s so much harder than just saying it.”

“Is it, though?”

“ _Michael_ \- ”

“You’re overthinking this,” Michael tells him, and Luke bites his tongue against refuting. “Your parents love you, and even if they’re a little angry that you kept the secret, they’re still going to accept you. You know this, you’ve told me this, but you keep talking yourself out of it. You just have to bite the bullet.”

As always, Michael is a genius. His words, though tough to hear, are spot on. It’s exactly what Luke needs to hear — though was it said a few hours prior, Luke could act on the sudden motivation he has to confess to parents and get it done and over with.

Given the timing, though, he's stuck. He knows that while he could at anytime say something to his parents and they’ll react the same, it’s something he'll lose confidence in before the time comes. Thinking about telling them now, in the dead of the night, is easy, a task he could do where he stands. Thinking about waiting until morning is different, and it makes him want do anything but tell them. Having to face them in the sunlight after this sudden feeling of bravado has left him makes him want to stay just outside of Macquarie with Michael forever.

He eventually sighs. “It’s hard.”

“And you’re brave, Princess,” Michael insists. “As soon as you say something, you’ll be wondering what took you so long.”

“I don’t think - ”

“That’s fine,” Michael cuts him off, his hand tightening around Luke’s, “because I _know_.”

Luke can’t think of anything to say in return, not when Michael smiles. He absolutely shines as the faint moonlight paints his face blue, only enhancing everything Luke’s already enamoured with. He knows, now, why the sky is empty.

All of the stars are in Michael's eyes.

“Thank you.”

Michael grins, eyes watching Luke’s face closely. He smiles tentatively. “I feel like you aren’t going to tell your mom.”

“I will,” Luke says, the words not feeling like a lie for once. “Eventually, I mean. I just need you by side, cheering it on.”

“I can do that. You’re own personal cheerleader, right? Should I wear a uniform?”

“I wouldn’t hate that,” Luke grins, the image suddenly forming in his head. “You could follow me around, waving your pom poms at everything I do.”

Michael hums, his hand reaching out to find Luke’s across the console and hold it in his own. “You know I’d love nothing more, but I’m not sure I could get a uniform before the summer’s up.”

“Then you’d just have to follow me to Sydney,” Luke gasps. It’s a all joke, and he's smiling, despite how very much he'd be okay with that. He adds a sarcastic, “ _Oh_ _no,_ ” through his grin.  

Michael rolls his eyes, but he's grinning along. “As much as I’d like to spend more time with your ridiculous ass, we know it wouldn’t work out.”

“Do we?” Luke asks without meaning to. “Do we both really know that?”

“Luke - ”

“No, I know,” he cuts Michael off, shaking his head. “I won’t, like, rock the boat or anything. It’s just wishful thinking.”

A blanket of quiet covers the car after Luke’s sad tone cuts through what was an enjoyable tension. The jokes fade away and a feeling of upset takes their place. It’s not that Luke had meant to make things uncomfortable, to bring up his own personal grievances on what should be a nice night for them to be together.

Next to him, Michael's smiling regrettably, a sorrow in his eyes that Luke feels shameful for putting there. He's in his own head now, turning to face his own window, and all Luke wants to do is go back a few moments before he stuck his foot in his mouth and used it as a megaphone to ruin the mood.

They’ve only got so much time left, and just as much as Luke wants to use the time to try and convince Michael to stay in his life, he also wants to make the most of it — something that’s impossible if Luke keeps sombering their dates with the ugly thoughts and declarations that Michael could stay but won’t.

And that’s what kills Luke the most, he thinks. It’s that Michael _could_ follow Luke to Sydney, or even go to Adelaide, but keep in contact with Luke, and after he graduates, not too long from now, they could travel together. It’s not something farfetched, not with the degree Luke’s working to earn himself. They both could be traveling artists together, but Michael refuses to concede his point and let himself have this. He could… but he won’t.

Or maybe he doesn’t even want to. That’s the thought that keeps Luke up at night.

Suddenly, Michael sniffles and looks out the windshield. Luke doesn’t say anything, just watches as Michael mouth forms silently around words he isn’t saying. They both sit quietly as they wait for Michael to fully think through what he's going to say. And then…

“One day - ” he sounds choked up and he's looking out the windshield, smiling but it seems to be a bit forced if not bitter. There’s something off, and Luke sits, waiting for him to continue. Michael clears his throat. “One day, I like to think I’ll be able to settle down somewhere.”

Luke doesn’t know what to say. Michael is clearly in a faraway world, eyes a bit distant, and Luke just wants to make things better. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want the like,” he moves his hand alongside his words, “the white picket fence and the nine to five job. That sounds awful. I just want to make a home.” He stops talking for a minute, and Luke bites his tongue against telling Michael that he _can_ have it, but he begins to think that maybe it’s not that Michael doesn’t want these things enough, it’s that he doesn’t think he deserves them. “Maybe a trophy husband.”

“ _Husband,_ ” Luke repeats incredulously. His eyes are suddenly wide at the thought, and they both sit there in the dark, chuckling at the thought of something only in fairytales. “Wouldn’t that be incredible.”

“One day, Princess. I know it.” Michael makes it sound like a promise not an impossibility, and Luke’s heart aches. “I just feel - ” he sounds choked up again. Luke now has a lump in his throat, the tenderness of something good disappearing. “I… it feels like I’m bound to spend my life on the road, trying to make it. I don’t want to spend my life trying and trying and trying not going anywhere.”

At that, Luke has to shake his head. “Michael, you’re going to make it - ”

“What if I don’t?” Michael interrupts Luke, the certain tone he held going unheard. “What if I get a chance, but they find out I’m bi and I lose my shot?”

“The world is changing, Mikey! Melissa Etheridge just came out, and she's doing great. Our time is coming.”

“I’m no Melissa Etheridge,” Michael says, a scoff accompanying his sour tone.

“No,” Luke agrees. “You’re Michael Clifford, and that’s so much fucking better.”

Luke knows, more than he knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, that Michael's the best person in the world. That Melissa Etheridge and Elton John and all the gay celebrities in the world are more than just people for Michael to admire. One day he'll be standing alongside them, wearing his sexuality like a badge as he sells out stadiums and makes something of his music.

It’s a universal truth that Michael is going to go on to do amazing things.

“What if I never get a shot at all then?” Michael asks, voice timid, more scared than better. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“You - ”

“I’m _never_ good enough,” he chokes out, and his head hits the steering wheel with force.

In an instant, Michael starts crying and Luke’s shocked silent. He's never seen Michael so upset, so absolutely vulnerable. It feels like like a new side to him, and despite the grim reasoning behind it, Luke feels so blessed to be here, to be trusted. He's also sad for Michael, that these thoughts are plaguing him, that he ever feels like he's not good enough.

It’s been not even three months, but it’s been more than enough time for him to see that Michael is worth not just his dreams. He deserves the entire world, and the fact that he can’t see it is painful for Luke to hear.

“Michael,” Luke starts, reaching out tenderly to move Michael's head from the steering wheel and into his chest. “You are the most talented person I’ve ever met, and the idea of you not making it is absolutely insane.”

“You have to say that - ”

“I don’t,” Luke insists, stopping Michael's negative thoughts from taking over. “Watching you on stage is like…” Luke looks around trying to think of an analogy, something that stands of chance of being compared to Michael, something worth the high praise. Around them, the sky is beginning to get lighter, no sign of the sun, but the black sky is slowly turning blue. “It’s like seeing the sun rise. You know it’s going to happen, but it’s still breathtaking every time.” Michael laughs at his pep talk, the chuckles sounding thick in his throat, and there are still tears on his face, but he's smiling, and it’s a good sign. “Was that too cheesy?”

“No,” Michael denies, but then thinks better of it. “Well, yes. You always are. But that’s not it.”

“Then what’d I do?”

Even though he could open his eyes and lift his head up, Michael stays cuddles into Luke’s body and asks, “Is the sun rising?”

“Not yet,” Luke tells him. “The sky is starting to get bright.”

He takes a moment to look out as see what’s in front of him, and is shocked to see it’s a cliff. Not like the one over the village, overlooking the place they’d made all their memories — it’s an honest cliff, overlooking water, the _ocean_ if Luke had to venture a guess. Michael didn’t just drive them out for the hell of it, he drove to the end of the country for this right here.

He nods, sitting up from Luke’s chest and wipes his still wet eyes with his fist. “Let’s go, then.”

“Go where?”

“On the bonnet,” Michael answers, his mischievous grin back, though a bit wobbly. “We’re watching the sunrise.”

They exit the car, Michael leading the way to sit on the bonnet, Luke following after him eagerly, ignoring the four separate comments Michael makes about the dirt covering it. He could’ve guessed that they were watching the sunrise, had he been able to see the cliff when they arrived, but seeing the proud look on Michael face makes the surprise more than worth it.

Just over the horizon, the sun slowly begins to show itself. Luke leans back, one hand behind him to hold his weight, and the other wrapping around Michael's shoulders to pull him back into his body as they enjoy the sight together.

“I can’t get the view from our hike out of my head,” Michael laughs, as Luke continues to take in the light beginning to fill the sky. “I just want to share something beautiful with you.”

It hits Luke then, turning to look at his boyfriend, just how strongly he feels. It didn’t happen suddenly, coming out of nowhere — it’s been building since the very moment he met eyes with this effervescent vision, and it’s continued to grow with every secret smile and cheesy joke. Michael shares something beautiful everytime he laughs, making Luke’s world brighter every second they’re together.

“You already do,” Luke assures him, ducking his head to hide the blush forming at his newest discovery.  

It’s not a possibility anymore, it’s a truth. Luke’s in love with Michael.

☀

The only problem with having one of the best summers of his life is that days spent relaxing at Calum’s house are always dull in comparison. But even so, cuddling up on the couch in between Michael and Ashton, watching old movies as they nurse their hangovers from the night before, still beats every summer he's had before. Luke knows he can’t stay too long, at least not without calling his parents, just so they don’t worry, but he can’t see himself doing much more than getting refills or using the bathroom for the next twenty-four hours.

They’re all winding down from a night at the bar. Michael dragged them out to get drunk and sing some karaoke. It took five mixed drinks and three shots of something that tasted an awful lot like gasoline for Luke’s defenses to go down enough for him to face his fear and sing on stage, but he doesn’t regret it at all. If anything, he's glad he has Michael in his life to help him do these things he never thought he could.

The night before was so eventful, with the lights flashing, and the bass bumping, and everything they all drank. So sitting here with the television turned down, having quiet conversations as their words wrap each other the same way their bodies do on the sofa, is a nice flip of the switch.

Really, though, any day he's with Michael is the best day of his life.

“So I was thinking,” Ashton says in between sips of his drink, “that I could come visit you this year, Luke. I’ve got the money and the means, but I actually want to do it this year, come see your place and meet all your friends.”

Luke has been trying his hardest to avoid talking — or even _thinking_ — about going back to university. Overlooking the fact that he's not very close to anybody he goes to uni with, the moment he goes back, he and Michael are done. Uni is only a symbol for the day something great ends, and Luke’s _not_ looking forward to it.

“Can I tell you honestly,” he asks, adjusting his posture so Michael’s head falls from his shoulder onto his lap accompanied by an airy _oof._ “I’ve not spoken to anybody from Sydney since the day I left.”

Calum coughs on Michael’s other side. “That’s not too rare,” he comments. “I haven’t talked to anybody from Uni and half of them live in Tamworth. Have they reached out to you?”

Thinking back, a brief goodbye hug from Ava and Alex was the last he truly spoke to somebody up north. There’s been one call from Alex about their living arrangements in autumn, but it was brief and he hadn’t even thought about it until just now.  

“My roommate did, yeah,” he answers, “but he only asked if we’d be together next year. I told him we were and asked if he wanted to stay in the same building or go somewhere else, but he didn’t give me a straightforward answer.”

“You don’t need ‘em,” Calum grins, reaching his arm over Michael’s curled up body to rub his thumb on Luke’s shoulder. “You’ve got us.”

“But what happens when he goes back?” Ashton raises. “He'll need them then.”

As much as Luke wishes it weren’t true, it very much is. This thing they’ve got going, spending the best days of their lives together and feeding off of each other’s happiness, it won’t go on for too much longer. After he goes back, Ashton’s going back to his university as well, and Michael’s leaving Hillvue for Adelaide, last Luke heard. Calum will stay here, but he’ll be in school while he works.  

Once Luke leaves, it’ll be a domino effect of the group disbanding, and it has a lump rising in his throat. Every memory they’re making, every lazy Sunday and random Thursday roadtrips, every skinny dip and drive-in movie — it all ends.

Luke chokes back every soppy, tearful thing he wants to say. “I don’t need anybody,” comes out instead, “I’m a lone wolf.”  

Michael snorts from where he's resting against Luke’s lap, barely moving as he expresses his objection. “Princess, _I’m_ a lone wolf, you’re a pup who lost its mom.”

“What?” he laughs, shocked and a little outraged. “Are you kidding? I don’t need my mom, I don’t need a pack. I’m all alone in this big world.”

“He's right, Luke,” Calum interrupts, smiling widely as he takes in Luke’s scowl. “You’re like a scared puppy - ”

“What part of me is scared?”

Ashton’s shoulder bumps into his and a giggle follows, accompanied by a delighted, “Literally last night at the pub.”

And, “Alright, that’s fair suppose,” he confesses as he thinks back to how long it took Michael and Ashton to even have him considering going on stage. “I mean, I _was_ facing a lifelong fear of public ridicule, so there was a reason behind it, I’m just saying, but that’s a fair comment. It’s only one instance, though.”

“What about at the drive-in?” Calum brings up. “You spent the entire night with your body facing the back. You were scared shitless.”

“That - ”

“When I rushed the stage at the Crystal Filter show,” Michael yells, his hand flying straight up, narrowly avoiding Luke’s face. “You were pretty scared, I’d say.”

“Of course I was scared.” Luke’s astonished that Michael would bring that up as a moment of weakness. “You nearly brained yourself, Mikey! I was having a great time up until you tumbled off the stage!”

“But you’re _always_ scared, is the thing,” Ashton protests, completely disregarding the terrifying instance brought up to the table. “Like a little pup - ”

Luke groans, cutting him off. “I hate every single one of you.”

Luke knows for a fact that when he's old and withered, he'll look back on this summer as the greatest adventure he's ever had. He knows that if Michael keeps looking at him with that crooked smile and making jokes at his expense, he'll definitely look back on him as his greatest love. In fifty years, every small moment, every secret, every kiss, every dance in the rain, he'll remember and cherish it all. But despite all of that, looking at Michael’s cocky grin, Luke can’t find it in him to do anything other than glare at his boyfriend, feeling slightly angry, but also absolutely enchanted.

Ashton’s arm nudges his as he throws his drink back, finishing off the rest of the juice. “I’m all out,” he pants, cracking his back as he sits up, “anybody want a fill up?”

“I’ll do that for you. I was getting up anyway,” Michael volunteers, standing from the couch, stretching as he goes. “Princess, would you help me?”

Luke nods and reaches out for Michael to help him off the couch. Michael grabs his hand and assists, but not without rolling his eyes first, which Luke assumes is all part of his charm with how often he does it.

“I’ve just cleaned the kitchen. Please don’t make it filthy,” Calum advises, and Luke himself has to roll his eyes.

Ashton nods, handing his cup over as he jokingly adds, winking, “At least not without us there to watch.”

Michael takes the glass from Ashton, but ignores his part of the quip, turning to address Calum instead. “You’re a little late with the speech, man,” he smiles, flashing his teeth. “Our second time together was actually right where you’re sitting.”

“What?!”

Luke has to stop himself from laughing at the outrage on his face. “Don’t listen to him, Calum. He's messing with you,” he placates. Calum looks relieved at Luke’s words, the distress on his face melting away into comfort, and Luke almost doesn’t have it in him to spoil exactly what the lie was. But then again, “it was our _first_ time.”

Michael cackles, pulling Luke with him as they leave Calum to bask in his anguish, launching himself off the cushion and moving to the chair opposite to where they were all huddled up. Luke’s pulled into the kitchen, Michael releasing his hand as soon as they step passed the entry way.

Michael walks to the fridge, grabbing the container of juice that Ashton and he are sharing. He's got a smile on his face, and it has Luke matching it. There’s something about being near Michael that makes him so unbelievably happy.

he opens up the cupboard, looking for something to munch on, knowing that none of them are going to want to cook any meals. “So did you bring me in here to have your dirty way with me?”

“No, not this time,” Michael sighs, grinning even wider if at all possible. “We’ve got friends over, and I could have you whenever, anyway.”

“Oh, could you?”

Michael’s eyes positively light up at Luke’s incredulity, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth at he starts to pour the juice into the glasses. “Don’t try and act like I couldn’t, Princess. You and I both know that if they weren’t here, we would’ve spent all day on that couch”

“We already are spending all day on the couch,” Luke points out.

“Sure, but our clothes are on.”

Luke smirks at Michael's response, loving the way he reacts and returns the look as he takes Luke in. “And what a shame that is.”

Michael drops his gaze when the juice he's pouring overflows and dribbles onto the countertop. It has both of the boys giggling, taking them out of the pleasant tension so easily. Because that’s what this relationship is: easy.

Not in a bad way — though Luke absolutely is for Michael in the worst way — but moreso that every moment together feel like the most natural thing in the world. Even when hardships arise, they can move so easily past it. It’s just…

Easy.

Michael motions towards the paper towels on the counter behind Luke, so he shakes himself out of his thoughts enough to hand them to an amused Michael, who wipes up the mess and then goes back to pouring. Luke turns and continues looking for food.

“So,” Michael starts, “I was thinking about when I head out to Adelaide - ” Luke unintentionally takes in a shallow breath, flinching as soon as it happens because he knows - “Honestly?” Michael laughs humorlessly. “I thought we were past this.”

“No, you’re right.” Luke shakes his head, eyebrows drawn together tightly, regretting having made the noise, “Sorry. I have to get used to it. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael sighs. Luke still hasn’t turned around, too afraid that something will happen to worsen the conversation. It’s a valid fear, seeing as they’ve yet to talk about their inevitable end without at least a slight dispute. “I’m sorry that things are so complicated. If we could continue you know I would, but - ”

“Well, why _can’t_ we?” Luke asks before he can bite his tongue.

“Luke - ”

“No. Hear me out.” He turns around, letting the cabinet door close behind him. Michael’s eyes are soft and he's nibbling on the inside of his lip. “I only have a year left in school. You could come down to Sydney and play music there for a while.”

Michael shakes his head in response, asking, “what about after you get your degree? I don’t want to drag you all across the country - ”

“I can make art anywhere, Michael!” Luke responds, laughing a bit hysterically. He know this isn’t going to end the way either of them want, but they’re so close to an actual forever. He feels like if Michael wasn’t so stubborn they could have it. “We could be struggling artists, travelling the world together. It’d be romantic. You’d play your shows and I’d paint abstract and take pictures of you and - ”

“And how would we live?” Michael cuts him off. His voice is shaking and his eyes are shining, and Luke _knows_ he wants it, but he's not letting himself even dream of having it. “How would we make money?”

“Well, I don’t know yet,” he shrugs. He's not thought that far ahead, he's never had a chance to let himself with Michael always telling him no. “We'll figure something out, yeah? How are you making money now? It’ll be easier if there’s two of us.”

“Luke, I really don’t think you understand how hard this is for me.”

Luke coughs out an aborted laugh at the actual pain on his face. “How hard it is for you?” he asks, astonished. “You sleep in Calum’s spare room, play music, and have adventures every day of your goddamn life. It’s not hard at all, but even if it is, why can’t I be there to help you through it?”

“Because this life is unpredictable and I can’t risk bringing you into this,” Michael reasons.

“Well, too late” Luke chuckles, shaking his head and backing away from the counter. “I’m already pretty invested as it is.”

“No you aren’t,” Michael scoffs. He's keeping his voice gentle, but it’s uneven, rising at random times, showing that he's barely controlling himself. “It’s been a few months, not a few years. This summer was easy for me but I’ve not always had a place to sleep. It’s difficult, Luke, but I never intended to lead you into thinking this was something to be permanent. I never told you to latch on so tightly — that was your doing.”

“Right,” Luke nods, blinking against the tears forming, feeling the sudden rock drop in his stomach at Michael’s words. “So it’s my fault I’ve gone and caught feelings for you then, is that it? It’s not like you kept pushing at the beginning for more dates or anything. You never went and made this official. It’s all _me_.”

Michael shakes his head, stepping out from behind the counter and pulling Luke into a hug. “You know that’s not what I meant. I love what we have together, and this has been the best summer of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Then why won’t you consider a future together?” he mumbles into Michael’s shoulder, not wanting to wrap his arms around him, not feeling like a hug could help.

“We have an expiration date, Princess,” Michael answers, and Luke pulls himself away in response. “We both know this. Maybe in another life.”

“Fuck another life,” he laughs. “And fuck you if you think - ”

“ _Luke_ \- ”

“No!” Luke yells, hating the way the anger tastes in his mouth. “Fuck you, Michael Clifford. I’m sorry that I don’t fit into your perfectly difficult world.” He feels tears welling in the back of his eyes, but he refuses to cry about this in front of Michael.

He runs out of the kitchen, nearly crashing into Ashton and Calum who are standing near the entryway, concerned looks on their face. It’s all too much, too humiliating and stressful, for him to deal with. He shoves past his friends and books it towards the door, hand slipping out of the grasp of whoever tried to stop him.

The last thing he hears before the door slams behind him is a worried, “Luke!” but he can’t turn back.

No matter how much he wants to.  

☀

With time ticking down, leaving them with only two weeks left, any amount of time Luke isn’t is Michael's company is an absolute waste. The impending goodbye wouldn’t be quite so dramatically painful if they were at least spending time together, but it’s been two days since they’d last spoken, neither boy wanting to take the risk and reach out first.

It’s different than it was the last time they’d gone this long without speaking. Then, it’d been Michael ignoring Luke’s efforts to make contact, but this time, there’s radio silence from both ends. Luke doesn’t think he needs to apologize, for feeling how he did, for wanting to enjoy their time together without Michael belittling it.

Though now, thinking on it, Luke doesn’t care if Michael apologizes, doesn’t know if he really even needs to. They’d both said some harsh things, and Luke shouldn’t have run out during their argument…

Neither of them were in the right, and at this point, all Luke wants is Michael. If he would only swallow his pride, Luke would be more than happy to put everything behind them, but it’s been two days since their fight, and Michael hasn’t made a move. Luke just needs something.

Luke doesn’t think himself to be a genius, isn’t sitting on a pile of psychological conspiracies, but he's almost certain Michael's lack of contact is because they have an expiration date, and, maybe, he'd rather not go through this twice. At the end of this summer, they have to say goodbye, and Luke thinks Michael isn’t ready for it. He's not taking the step to apologize, or to even pretend nothing happened, because when he does, they’ll be back on their timeline, headed straight for the end.

Personally, Luke would be more motivated to make the effort to patch things up, he feels like he's the only one pushing for them to stay together, to give their relationship a chance. Michael's been hurt before, Luke knows, and he's afraid of being hurt again. To take the next step, to reach out after how their last argument ended, would show a lot of growth.  

Just when Luke’s beginning to think that Michael would rather let this be their goodbye, he shows up in the most unexpected place.

It’s Sunday, two weeks before Luke’s set to make his drive back to Sydney, and his whole family is together at his aunt’s house for a nice summer barbeque. Luke’s sitting on the ground by the fire, telling a classic scary story to his cousins as the sun sets, when he sees someone familiar standing at the open gate.

It’s Michael, of course.

He picks his youngest cousin off his lap and sets him on the ground beside him. In his surprise, and relief, he ends the story suddenly, and takes off towards his boyfriend.

Michael's standing stiffly at the entryway, looking timid and more worried than Luke’s ever seen him. Luke grabs his upper arm and pulls him outside of the gate. Just in case things go poorly, he wants Michael to have the freedom to say what he wants without being worried about strangers watching.

“Hey,” Luke says, voice hesitant, not sure the tone of where this conversation is headed.  

“Hey. I wasn’t sure if I was still invited - ”

He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing Michael wanted to come despite not knowing if he was allowed. He made an effort. “Of course you are.” Luke pulls him into a hug and Michael positively melts into it. It’s been too long since they’ve seen each other, let alone touched, and they’re both feeling a little touch-starved. They hold each other for a while, making up for the lost time. “I'm so glad you're here.”

Michael looks up, sitting entirely under Luke’s chin. “Even after?”

“ _Especially_ after.” Luke pushes Michael away gently, hands solid on his upper arms as he looks him in the eye. “I shouldn’t have run out like that, I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Michael looks exhausted, Luke can see bags under his eyes, and he's huffing as though he's frustrated with himself. Luke’s hopelessly endeared. “ _I’m_ sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, Princess. It was all me.”

“No - ”

“I shouldn’t have been so harsh about your kindness,” Michael continues, cutting Luke off and continuing his apology. “You were only trying to figure out a way for us to be together.”

That’s all Luke ever wants — for them to be together in the long game — but right now, all that matters is making sure that Michael is his for right now. “I overstepped the boundary. We both knew nothing good was going to come out of that conversation.”  

“It - ”

“Let’s just…” They both start at the same time, chuckling slightly as they cut themselves off. Michael gestures for Luke to continue, and he does so with a small smile on his face. “Let’s put it behind us. Every time we fight we take away time we should have together.”

“You’re right,” Michael nods.  

Luke grins, feeling cocky in hearing Michael's words. “I’m always right.”

“And here I was thinking that was me.” Michael grins that that teasing grin of his, and leans in for a kiss. Luke fucking missed him. He's angry at himself for letting a fight keep them apart for a second time, but he's never letting it happen again. “So catch me up,” Michael says when they pull back. “What’ve I missed.”

“I’m not sure. My mom started talking about me being a lawyer, so I’ve been playing with the young ones.” Like always, any time his major is brought up, the guilt gets so bad, Luke’s forced to walk away from the conversation instead of confessing his truth.

“You know, I don’t want to overstep any _boundaries_ ,” Michael emphasizes the last word, and Luke giggles. “Tonight might be a good time to tell your mom and Andy about your major.”

Luke bites his lip. He wants to tell the truth but being pushed to do it makes him want to do it even less. As time ticks down, Luke finds himself thinking he'll be lying about his major for the rest of his life. “I’ll think about it.”

They both know he won’t.

They’ve been standing on the wrong side of the fence for too long, so Luke grabs Michael's hand and walks them into the backyard together. There’s only so long of the barbeque left now that the sun is properly setting, and he plans on spending every last minute with Michael.

They’ve only made it a few steps when Luke’s younger cousin spots him, and comes running up, chanting “Luke, Luke, Luke” the entire way.  

Luke gets on his knees. As he’s running, pulling Michael down alongside him in order to keep their hands linked. “Hey, Hayden. What’s up?”

“Aunt Liz said you and your friend would help us make s’mores,” she shouts excitedly, making Michael and the other adults in the area laugh. They look up and see Liz waving, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“I have to check with Michael and see if he'd be okay with that.”

He turns to see Michael grinning, as cocky as ever. “I’ll have you know, I can make the best s’mores you’ll ever have.”

“Nuh uh,” Hayden disagrees immediately, and Michael's returning giggle has Luke feeling light. If seeing Michael with his parents felt great, seeing him get along with Luke’s cousin feels like walking on the clouds. Children always were his weakness. “Lukey makes the best.”

“We’ll have to see about that then, won’t we.” Michael grins at Luke, and it feels like a promise. It feels likes forever. Luke loves him so goddamn much.   

☀

“Let me have a chip, Luke.”

Luke looks across the table to see where Ashton’s sticking his hand out, fingers wiggling and he tries to reach for Luke’s food, but the younger refuses to budge. Ashton specifically asked for a salad instead of chips, so he needs to live with his choices.

They’re all gathered at the Red Lion enjoying lunch together before Calum has to drive to Somerton again for work. He got the call last minute, so they all freed their day to meet for a quick meal and to say goodbye, as they won’t be seeing Calum for a few days.

Luke’s smushed into the corner of the booth with Michael immediately to his right. Ashton and Calum are across from them. They’re all crowded tightly together, eating more than they are talking, and it’s a bit of a mess altogether.

Even so, Luke refuses to let Ashton have a chip.

“No.” He pulls his plate out of reaching distance and against his chest. It’s a tad uncomfortable, but he's not beyond going to great lengths to protect his food.

“Can I have a chip, Princess?” Michael asks, and Luke doesn’t hesitate to move his plate under Michael's hand. Michael takes a chip happily, smirking at Ashton as he chews.

“Why did Michael get one?” Ashton sounds more offended than he should over a chip, and Luke smiles through his food at the bitter tone. “ _I’m_ your best friend.”

Calum laughs around his bite and sets his burger down to gesture at Michael and Luke. “But they’re sleeping together, Ash. There are different rules.”

“Maybe I just got the chip because Luke doesn’t like you Ashton,” Michael offers, shrugging. He looks so innocent, as though his words mean no harm, even though they do — obviously with love, though. “Did you ever think of that?

Luke laughs, his giggles fully developing into something more when he see how utterly unamused Ashton looks. “Maybe I won’t come visit you this year, then,” he threatens. “Let you suffer on your own in Sydney.”

“Good.” Luke grins afterwards, watching for everybody’s reactions, but only really caring when he hears Michael's giggles. It makes him feel light.

They delve into silence again, delving back into their food as well. Michael makes the occasional joke that has Calum laughing more at the unimpressed glare from Ashton’s end than the joke itself. Ashton tries to add in his own twist to the humor, but Michael always manages to be one step of ahead of him.

It’s so classically them, being in their own company, getting along under the guise of irritation with each other. An honest to God sweet moment between them would feel so out of place, and that’s the most comforting thing about them.

“Y’know,” Ashton says suddenly, looking thoughtful. “There’s only ten days left until Luke’s to head back to school. I’m gone three days after that.”

“You’re all out to leave,” Calum adds. “And then it’ll just be me in this town.”

It’s not news. Luke knows already, he's had the countdown in his head since the night he realized just how in love with Michael he is. It’s been an ever-constant number ticking down slowly behind his eyes, and it’s killing him. Hearing it said out loud by someone other than him or Michael is jarring. It makes it feel less like a random barrier they’ve placed on their relationship, and more like an actual solidified date in which everything this beautiful magnanimous summer has been will disappear.

“And that’s when things really go to shit,” Michael laughs. Luke knows it’s a joke, just responding to Calum’s comment, but it fits with his own thoughts. Once this summer is over, things will go to shit, joke or not.

“Watch yourself, Michael,” Calum warns, pointing at Michael. “I don’t _have_ to let you sleep in my spare room.”

Michael grins. “That’s right. You don’t.” It’s all he says on the subject before turning to Luke, the vindictive grin turning into something much more soft. “Can you hand me the ketchup, Princess?”

Luke reaches over, taking the bottle from where Calum had been hoarding, and hands it to Michael. Michael's thumb sweeps across his hand as he passes it, and Luke’s so stupid for this boy. They’re surrounded by friends, yet Michael is all he knows.

“Y’know, though, Ashton’s right.” Calum finishes chewing before he continues his point. “Luke’s only here for about a week.”

“Week and half,” Michael bites, sounding like there’s nothing but bitterness with a hint of despair in him as he rolls his eyes. Calum laughs at the reaction, and Michael glares, but Luke can’t help but preen at how he snapped. Even as the end of their relationship is nearing and looking more bleak by the moment, it’s good to know that at Michael's upset about it too.

It gives Luke a little hope that maybe they’d have a chance at making this last, a thought it’s too late for him to give up.

Calum waves off the couple and continues. “Regardless, we’ve only got so much time left together. We have to do something to see him off.”

“My family’s throwing me a goodbye party on Saturday night,” Luke shrugs, not sure what else they could possibly do that hadn’t already been done this summer. “You should all come.”

“So we can all just blend into the crowd and have an awkward hug before you leave us for good?” Calum looks hurt by the offer, an odd emotion to see on him.

“For good? Calum, you do know I grew up in this town too. I'll be back.”

“Michael won’t.” It takes a lot of effort for Luke to not lean over and hit Calum for the comment.

Luke fucking _knows,_ okay? It’s been three months of constant reminders that Michael won’t come back to town, that once he goes, he's _gone_. He's well aware of the fact, and every time he's reminded it’s like a small piece of his heart is being taken out and scattered across Hillvue.

“That’s really gonna be the last night we're all together, isn't it?” Ashton asks, staring resolutely at his food, a somber note to his tone.

“What if we did a big sleepover afterwards?” Luke offers. He planned on spending the night with Michael, but spending it with the others doesn’t sound bad at all. “Have a movie marathon and chat shit until I have to leave in the morning.”

“That’d be nice,” Ashton nods along with the idea. “But we should do something _big_. One last adventure before things get formal.”

“We should do a cheesy, ironic bowling alley party,” Calum says, not even allowing an air of breath after Ashton finished his piece.

“Then what would we do for your eleventh birthday?” Ashton teases. Next to Luke, he can feel Michael tense. A glance over shows him shaking his head. If Luke had to guess, Michael’d been hoping to make a joke at Calum first.

Luke hides his smile in the palm of his hand.

“I get it, it's immature,” Calum rolls his eyes. “But that's exactly why we should do it. I said ironic, didn’t I?”

“Cool it, Alanis.” Michael doesn’t look completely confident in his joke, but there’s some light in his eyes. Luke can’t believe how juvenile his boyfriend can be, but then again, he's not complaining. “I vote no.”

Luke nods along with Michael's veto. “I'm not very good at bowling, and I’d rather not embarrass myself on our last day as a group.”

“Oh, Princess,” Michael coos, his hand coming off the table to grab Luke’s. “You'll embarrass yourself regardless of what we do.” His spare hand reaches over and run his thumb across Luke’s collar, making the younger of the two blush.  

“Why don’t we just do two sleepovers?” Michael suggests. So far it’s the most reasonable idea. “One this week and one the night Luke leaves. It’ll save us from having to camp out here for a day to decide on something.”  

They pause to think on it, and seeing as the other ideas were a cheesy bowling alley party or nothing at all, Luke’s all for it. They’ve done sleepovers before, and it’s always good fun. Not to mention, he can’t seem to think of another option.

At least, until Ashton’s eyes widen suddenly and an open-mouthed smile takes over his face. “Or we could camp _outside_ for one of the nights,” he all but pants in a rush to get the words out. “Set a tent out, get a fire going. I could bring my boombox and some mixed CDs I burned. Urban Irwin will set the right mood.”

Any confidence they’d held in him disappears instantly at the nickname he gives himself. Everybody groans, and Calum even throws his used napkin in Ashton’s face “We'll go if you promise to never fucking call yourself that again,” he threatens, hands already reaching for another napkin.

“What? Why not?” Ashton sounds genuinely shocked that nobody welcomed his name. “That’s what everybody called me in high school.”

Luke laughs suddenly, the memory hitting him immediately. “No it isn't. Bryana called you that as a joke after you gave her a few cassettes for Christmas and your face lit up like a Christmas tree. You insisted on being called that and then nobody did it anyway.”

“I seem to remember differently…”

As Ashton trails off, Michael starts laughing at his expense, and it’s back to how it was at the beginning of their meal. It always comes full circle with them.

“So camping then?” Calum asks.

Luke nods. “I’m alright with that.”

“Same here,” Calum agrees. “Now hurry up and finish eating. I've got to head to Somerton as soon as I can.”

The group digs into their food, finishing their meals as Calum watches on, making no effort to try and leave early. When they do finish eating, though, Calum rushes them all up to the counter to pay, and then gives them each a hug goodbye. He runs out the door to his car, leaving the other three to part awkwardly, laughing at their hurried friend.

Michael and Luke walk hand in hand to Luke’s car, not getting in before Michael can make the mandatory comment about the dirt that coats the surface, but then again, Luke wouldn’t expect anything less. They drive home with the radio playing quietly.  

The two pull up to Calum’s house, and though Luke wants nothing more than to join his boyfriend inside, he'd promised his mom he'd help with calling vendors for one of her club’s fundraisers. It’s just as tedious and boring as it sounds, and Luke would much rather be wasting the day in Michael's makeshift bed, but a promise is a promise.

Before Luke can say goodbye, Michael leans over the center console and kisses Luke once on the lips. “You're coming to my show tomorrow, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Since they’ve started dating, Luke’ can count on one hand how many shows he's missed, and he regrets each finger. If he could, he'd be there to cheer Michael on at each of his endeavors for the rest of his life.

Michael grins bright, and Luke’s heart soars. “Thank you for being there for me, like…” Michael shrugs, acting casual about everything, but Luke can see there’s a bit more beneath the surface. “It's not often that I have someone willing to come to my shows, so you being here, being here for _me_ , has been incredible.”

Not knowing what else to say, Luke places his hand on the side of Michael's neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Thinking about Michael being alone in the past hurts, inevitably bringing the thought of how many shows he'll have to perform alone in the future, and that makes Luke sick to his stomach.

He pulls away from the kiss, keeping his hand on Michael's neck. “What's going to happen when you head to Adelaide?”

Michael looks a bit hazy, eyes blinking slowly, adjusting to the sudden change in Luke’s demeanor. “What do you mean?”

“Will you have a support system?” Luke asks, remembering that Michael had said he'd not always had it this good. How bad did things get for him? What if he moves away and doesn’t have people to look after him. “A Calum to take care of you and a Ashton to fight with?”

“Well Cal’s got me a place to stay,” Michael says, words coming out slowly. He can probably tell Luke’s mind is racing and is doing his best to calm him down. “And if it's with someone he knows, we'll probably be butting heads.”

Michael chuckles at his joke, but Luke doesn’t. He can’t, not as he's just now realizing that while he's not going to have a Michael anymore, Michael's not going to have _anyone_. “Is there going to be a Ashton you can tease?”

“Well I - ”

“And a Luke?” he can hear his voice crack and tries to resist the urge to cry. His track record doesn’t show much hope that he'll be able to. “Will there be a Luke?”

Michael snaps his gaze up to Luke when he hears how quivery he sounds. He can see how pathetic and scared Luke looks and rushes to help. “Luke, Princess, there is nobody in the world that could ever replace you and it’d be stupid to even try.” Luke nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied. “Why are you,” Michael's voice sounds thick to Luke. He clears his throat and repeats, “Why are you asking?”

“Because I'd like to think we could last longer than just ten more days,” Luke answers. That’s when the first tears fall. “But we're not going to get a shot.”

“Luke - ”

Michael cuts himself off, reaching forward with both thumbs to wipe Luke’s tears away, not for the first time. It seems to Luke that their entire relationship is Michael fixing the mess ups in Luke’s life. It should be sweet and make Luke feel like the luckiest guy in the world, but it only has him getting even more upset when he realizes that when Michael's mess needs to be fixed, there may not be anybody by his side to dry his tears and tell him everything will be okay.

It makes Luke want to cry harder, but he manages to hold it all in. It’d be selfish to push his worries onto Michael knowing that they won’t be able to talk it out much longer before Luke has to go home.

“I know that it's tempting, when we're together, to think that life will always be this…” Michael trails off, searching for the right words, but keeps his eyes on Luke as he does. “This carefree and wonderful. But once we get out of this bubble, out of this small town that's held our attention for all of what, Luke, three months? Things are going to be hard and we'll be tested in the worst ways. I'd rather end things where we can control it, when we can both walk away and know it's the right thing.” Luke stays silent. Thinking. He wants to cry but there’s a part of him holding a fire that wants to _fight_ for this. “You shouldn't hold out hope for a happy ending, Luke. The best we can do is try for a _good_ one.”

“I just want you, though. That’s all I want.”

“Don’t say that,” Michael laughs, but there’s little humor, and his voice is sounding a bit wet. It’s not often that Michael cries, but Luke’s own tears often seem to trigger it. “You already make it hard enough just by being you. We both know how this is going to end.” Luke nods along to Michael's words, not trusting his voice to say anything back. Michael leans forward and kisses his head sweetly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He gets out of the car quickly, not looking back as he goes into the house, but Luke can see his hand reach up for his eyes. Luke cries a bit too on his drive home.

They both want this, Luke can see that, but bringing up today isn’t going to do them any favors. This isn’t a win, this isn’t a pivotal moment towards their forever. This was pain, and they both broke a bit today.

☀

The Wednesday before Luke’s set to leave, they have their camp out under the stars together. It wasn’t easy to plan, Calum needing to make sure he could get two consecutive days off, and then having to find some place they could easily set a tent up and get a fire going.

Ashton decided after they’d first talked about camping to iron out the small details, such as getting enough tents and sleeping bags from his family and buying the proper tools they’d need to successfully camp, such as marshmallows and flashlights, and… well, that’s all he brought. Other than the fix-ins for smores, he'd not wandered much farther into the grocery store.

Each headed straight for Calum’s house in the morning, Ashton arriving in his mom’s minivan, their camping supplies piled neatly in the trunk space, keeping their own loading process of their overnight bags rather efficient the way only a true anal retentive like Ashton could.

They all pile into the van and drive out of town, towards the woods to set everything up. Luke’s packed in the backseat with Calum, Michael requesting shotgun to Ashton.

There’s excitement floating around the vehicle as they listen to the radio, everybody bouncing a bit as they get ready. There’s an underlying sadness that’s waiting to be released as they realize this is their last time, just the four of them, doing something absolutely ridiculous. The next time they’ll all be together will be Luke’s goodbye party, surrounded by other people, and there won’t this time to just be them. It’s a harsh feeling, but Luke refuses to let it ruin things. It’s still early — they have time to mourn the summer later.

When they pull into the area Ashton had scouted earlier, they notice a fallen trunk in the way of where one of the tents needs to go, so before they begin to unload the car, they band together to move the large piece of wood out of the way. Though, halfway through, Calum must decide it’s far enough because, without warning, he drops the log, and everyone follows shortly…

Except for Michael.

He stays standing, the edge of the log that’s easily twice his size threatening to crush him, as he yells out for help. Ashton and Calum rush to help Michael out, and to shift it a bit more before they all drop it this time, but Luke can’t move. He's too busy laughing at the image of Michael nearly crumbling under this piece of wood, soft eyes panicked, screaming for help without using full words.

He's a bad boyfriend for it, but even after they’ve moved the log and Michael is close enough to hit him on the shoulder, Luke can’t hold the chuckles in at the other boy’s expense.

Ashton was only able to obtain two tents from his parents, so they split in two, Luke and Michael sharing theirs of course. As they’re setting up, Luke soon realizes that Michael has much more experience in camping than he led on. Luke feels a bit useless, unable to contribute anything other than disaster, but he's so in love with Michael, so impressed with everything he's doing, that it’s okay to mostly just watch as Michael passes him lovingly annoyed looks.

When the tent is constructed, Luke tosses their sleeping bags in and roll them out while Michael goes to help Ashton build the fire. Luke, sits on a fold out chair and watches as they try to work things out. Honestly, Luke thinks, the two aren’t doing much better than they would be with a helping hand from himself. It’s a clear and embarrassing struggle as even leaning two logs against each other is a challenge.

“You’re really not going to help then, Princess?” Michael asks through a sigh as the firewood falls again, hitting the ground with a irritating _thud_.

“I promised I wouldn’t be much help,” Luke laughs, leaning back in his seat.

Ashton laughs along with Luke, obviously thinking of every terrible attempt Luke’s ever had towards anything worth accomplishing, failing each time. “He's right,” Ashton agrees. “Luke’s more of the ideaman. He's not very good with his hands.”

“Oh, Ashton,” Michael chuckles, eyes gleaming mischievously. “I can assure you he's _excellent_ with his hands.”

Michael smirks at his own clever words, while Luke sits watching, a blush taking over his face even as he grins. In the distance, where the car is parked, Calum’s boasting laugh is heard.

“What’s so funny?” Ashton asks. He looks up from the fire to see Michael and Luke with dirty grins on their faces and groans. “Oh, you lot are _disgusting_. I’m glad I’m not sharing a tent with you.”

“No, but you are sharing a tent with Calum,” Michael comments, dropping more firewood in their pile. Although, at this rate they may not be able to use it at all. “And he gets quite handsy.”

The struggle to light the fire continues until Calum comes over to help. It sparks at first, like it had been doing before with no results, but then the flame comes, lighting up the kindling bright and feeling like success. All four of them cheer at the sight, and Ashton rushes to light the logs of firewood they have sitting in their makeshift pit, and then they all sit back in their chairs.

It’s still light outside, but they’re all feeling lethargic after all the work it took to set up the tents, gather the wood, and unpack the car, so they sit back and talk for the next few hours, reminiscing about the summer, telling jokes and playing games, and making small talk in the most enjoyable way possible. Sitting here, around the fire as they enjoy each others’ company, it feels like the epitome of everything this summer was for them.

Years from now, when Luke looks back (not that he won’t be looking back every day for the rest of his life, regardless), he won’t remember his best summer as being a “wild adventure.” He's going to remember it as it is, just four friends enjoying their time. Whether they were making a fool of themselves at the drive-in or sitting around a campfire listening to Ashton fruitlessly _insist_ on being called ‘Urban Irwin,’ it was all worth the same to him. Regardless of how much effort they put into planning their hangouts, it was all a labor of love and it means the world to him.

As it’s approaching night, the sun just hardly beginning to set, Calum asks, “Is it too soon to break out the marshmallows? I only really came for the s’mores.”

They all laugh, and Luke’s mostly surprised he'd managed to wait this long to ask, but Michael grabs the bag of marshmallows and tosses them over the fire to Calum. They roast the marshmallows and share stories, and it’s easily one of the greatest nights they’ve ever had as a group. As the sun sets, Luke finds himself wishing for this day to go on forever.

The sentimental feeling in the air isn’t just affecting him, it seems. Ashton clears his throat from where he sits and pulls everyone’s focus to him. “I don’t mean to be cheesy - ”

“Then don’t talk,” Michael smirks, making Luke laugh, but Ashton just rolls his eyes.

“I was just going to say that this was the best summer of my life, but never mind to that. This summer can fuck right off.”

Michael cackles at the sour tone. “You know I made your summer great.” Halfway through speaking, Michael turns to Luke, and Luke absolutely melts because Michael made his entire _life_ amazing, just by being in it.

“After this, y’know,” Calum starts, “nothing we do will ever beat this.”

“Camping?”

“No, you asshole,” he snaps at Ashton. “This summer, I meant.”

It’s the same thought Luke’s had everyday since the moment he laid his eyes on Michael. Impermanence is what makes life beautiful, yet it’s still an insane thought that one day he's going to wake up, and Michael won’t be by his side. That Ashton won’t be his best friend, and Calum won’t be waiting just down the road to bring them all into his home and make memories with.

It’s not news to Luke, yet every time they speak of it and his heart clenches in his chest, it feels like the first time. The only thing that’s surprising this time around is that he's not the one bringing it up. Everyone else is feeling the same terrifying paranoia that one day they won’t be able to be camping together on a Wednesday night, laughing at Ashton’s ignorance to dirty jokes and Calum’s impatience for s’mores.

“Isn’t that scary?” Michael says, a forced smile dancing across his lips. “The best times of your life are now, right? That’s crazy.”

Luke nods along, not wanting to look anywhere but at Michael, not when they’re talking about how amazing this summer has been. It was great for everyone else, he knows, but for him: it was everything… _Michael_ was everything. “To think, y’know. It’ll all be over in a few days.”

“Four,” Michael insists. “In four days.” he's staring back at Luke, and they’re both frowning.

The unspoken tension that’s always between them is far more palpable now than it has been. The countdown that’s been running since day one is said, out in the open, and neither of them are happy about it. Luke only hopes that Michael's willing to do something about it, to act on his reservations about leaving instead of running away scared.

It’s wishful thinking at this point, but everyone deserves a miracle.

“Do you think, like.” Calum laughs halfway through his words. “Do you think we’ll all be friends after this?”

Ashton flashes a grin at him, “Sure thing, mate. You want my home number now?”

It a rare show of Ashton’s sense of humor, and Calum takes it in kind, laughing and throwing a marshmallow at him. “I think we’ve been through too much together not to stay connected,” Calum says.

Michael is silent, lips thinning as he stares into the fire. Luke narrows his eyes slightly and pushes the boundaries. “We’ll always be a part of something, like, really important to each other. There’s no way we can just end it here.”

“Yeah.” Ashton’s nodding along with Luke’s words even though they’re only really meant to get through to Michael.

“And I’m glad that from the start, we always knew that we belonged together. That this wasn’t just some flash-in-the-pan friendship.” At Luke’s statement, Michael doesn’t react. He only continues to stare into the fire as if it’ll give him answers.

It won’t, Luke’s tried.

“I’ve had so many mates just disappear, just fall off the map, and I really hope you lot stick around for the long haul.” Calum’s words hit hard for all of them.

Michael looks down in his lap now, a pained crinkle to his nose, and Luke’s heart aches. They took it too far with this one. “I think I’m going to turn in.”

“It’s not even…” Ashton trails off, looking at his wrist for the time, only to realize he doesn’t have it. “I didn’t bring my watch.”

“Which means it doesn’t matter,” Luke grins, hoping he comes across less upset than he is. “Michael, do you want to join me?” Michael looks up, he looks exhausted and just as sad as he did before breaking down the morning they watched the sunrise together. Luke smiles thinly at the memory as Michael nods.

Ashton chuckles, “Don’t be too loud, now,” and Luke rolls his eyes.

“We’re just going to bed, I should be warning you both not to get to loud.”

Luke extends his hand for Michael to grab, and pulls him from his chair. Together they walk into their tent, and as Luke’s zipping it up, he hears Ashton beginning to speak. “Time is a social construct, actually - ” It’s accompanied by the sound of Calum groaning, and Luke has to take a moment to laugh to himself.

The small moment doesn’t last long. When Luke turns away from the zipper and to Michael, he sees him looking stressed and upset and everything that makes Luke feel guilty. “Listen - ”

“I get it.” He doesn’t let Michael get lost in apologies or explanations or whatever he worked himself up into thinking he needed to do. Luke can recognize that with the emotions already so high, making Michael think about their end wasn’t cool.  

“Do you?”

“The conversation out there,” Luke waves his hand, gesturing to where they’d just come in from. “It was hopeful thinking, and I said what I did without thinking about you. I’m so sorry.”

Michael laughs, but it’s unconvincing. “Don’t apologize.” He starts speaking loudly, but hearing a slight echo, he corrects himself, quieting down. “I get it too. And as much as I wish we could… It’s just not - ”

“Let’s just go to bed, yeah?” Luke’s smiling kindly. He knew where Michael was going, and it wasn’t good for either of them. They don’t need to talk it out, not today. “It’s been a long day, and you shouldn’t have to explain yourself or your feelings. I get it, and I’m sorry I made you think I don’t respect your decision.”

Michael grins back, and while it’s much more genuine than it usually is after they talk about such somber things, Luke can see the sadness there. It’s gotten to the point that they’re so in sync with each other that Luke knows how Michael's feeling. Even the most convincing of fake smiles holds no power now. It’s a lot to take in, too much after everything they’ve been through.

Luke makes to get into his sleeping bag, but Michael stays where he is, eyes slowly widening. “Hey, Luke?” Luke looks up, and Michael looks like he wants to say something, his eyes a bit wild and he's pale, but then the moment breaks and he's laughing. “Thank you.”

There’s no reason for Luke to believe he knew what Michael was thinking just then, but he's cute, and something as small as a laugh at his own actions is enough to have Luke captivated. He grins back, dimpling. “You’re very welcome.” Michael leans forward for a kiss, a short one, and then joins Luke in getting into their separate bags.

They lie together for a while in the silence, the sounds of their breathing getting slower and slower, until Luke falls asleep to the feeling of Michael playing with his hair.

Not for long, though. He hasn’t even started dreaming before he's awakened by the sound of Michael laughing quietly. He blinks slowly and almost turns around see what he could possibly be laughing at, but then Michael starts to talk and his words have Luke staying still, okay with letting Michael think he's still asleep.

“You really are the best thing to happen to me, Princess. I’m sorry that I don’t show it. Just _seeing_ you makes me feel stupid happy sometimes. It’s so ridiculous, I know, but I really…” he trails off to laugh again, his hand stopping their motion in Luke’s hair. “I want us to go longer than this summer, I really do. It actually _hurts_ just thinking about you leaving, about never being able to - ”

His words break again and he sighs, sounding frustrated.

“I want to say… I won’t get a chance to do this when you’re awake, and I just.” There’s a moment where Michael body adjusts, and Luke does his best to keep his breathing still, to stay relaxed and not be noticed eavesdropping on such an intimate moment. “When I got here, I’d just come from some shitty town near Gravesend and it was so lonely. I was staying in this flat above a bar and they had me slinging drinks every night so I could stay. I didn’t make any friends and I only sang twice in the six weeks I stayed.”

As upset as the story makes Luke feel, it clearly affects Michael more. The thought that Luke can’t comfort him has tears welling in his eyes, and he fights to hold in a sob, feeling he can’t let Michael know he's listening. It’s so personal, so emotional, and Luke wants Michael to have this moment.

“I came here because I _needed_ to get away, and I caught a ride with someone passing through and… I met Calum when he caught me trying to stay overnight in a pub. He dragged my sorry ass out and took me home. He fed me and let me use his shower, and when I got out, he had a makeshift bed for me in his spare room. He… he did a lot for me, but the best thing he did - ” Michael takes in a shallow breath and the wet sound has Luke floored. It makes his tears fall, just hearing how affected Michael is. “The best thing he did was lead me to you. It’s been the best three months of my life, Luke, and without you, it wouldn’t have happened. This is the first time I’ve ever even entertained the idea of staying someplace. You’ve made this feel like home.”

Their relationship, though full of fake insults and teasing, has been a roller coaster of sappy, emotional things, but this… this takes the cake. Luke’s never been shy in letting Michael know how important he is, but he's never been able to articulate just how strongly he feels.

Michael, though. Michael captured it perfectly.

“I love you, Luke.” If it wasn’t for the sob Michael let out after speaking, he would hear the gasp Luke releases on accident. He would’ve heard just what his words did to Luke, how they surprised him into giving away just how lucid he currently is. “I really do. I’ve always been afraid. Every time I love someone — my mom, my friends, they’ve all disappeared. But here you are, beautiful as anything, _wanting_ to stay. And I want to let you, I do, but I can’t. I just want to enjoy being with you these last few days and to share every last bit of love I have.”

He takes a moment to himself, Luke can hear him sniffling, but it’s nothing compared to the torrent of tears he's releasing himself.

“The point of love is to share the feeling with the person you have love for. Why should I pretend to not be happy?” Michael recites Luke’s words back to him, and he can’t even say anything back. Michael kisses the side of his head and then lies down, turning away as though he hadn’t just torn Luke’s world a part in four words.

Luke can’t sleep, there’s no way. He's holding in sobs as his tears pour down his face. His mind is racing and his heart is pounding. This was so much more than just a camping trip.

He needs to find a way to keep Michael forever. He can't let him go now.

☀

They day before the barbecue, before their last day together, Luke wakes up to something landing on him. It’s Michael, of course, he knows without even having to open his eyes.

“Good morning, Princess.” Michael face is far too close to his own, beaming as though it’s not too early in the morning and didn’t just wake Luke up by using his own body as a weapon. “Have any plans today?” Luke doesn’t answer, doesn’t do much more than close his eyes. “I _said_ , Good morning, Princess. Have any plans today?”

Luke groans and Michael just laughs. He gets off his body and Luke starts to snuggle deeper into the covers, hoping this was a sign that he can fall back asleep, but Michael rips his duvet clear off, throwing it on the ground.  

“ _Michael!_ ”

“Well look at that.” He's grinning, looking at his work, at Luke’s miserably grumpy face, giving off an air of pride. "He speaks!” Luke groans again, turning around, wishing nothing more than for Michael to disappear or — even better — join him on the bed, but he only chuckles, reaching onto the bed and pulling Luke by his shoulders up to a sitting position. “C’mon, love. I’ve got something fun for us to do.”

“Something fun” ends up being something scandalous and has Luke gasping upon his first sight of the bucket and washcloths resting next to his car. Michael makes them spend the next three hours washing every inch of dirt from Luke’s vehicle, absolutely making a mess of each other in the process.

If Michael had pulled this stunt earlier in the summer, Luke wouldn’t’ve been able to go through with the cleaning, far too attached to the dirt; feeling like it was a symbol for something in his life.

He doesn’t feel that way now, much more cavalier about it. And when the sun smiles back at him through the shine on the bonnet of his car, the whole thing nearly unrecognizable, Luke realizes there’s nothing in this world he's more attached to than Michael

He's absolutely smitten, and he knows they can make it. He wants them to, needs them to, and if he's ever been determined about anything in his life, his persistence on this will blow it out of the water.

☀

When Luke first arrived back home, he'd thought the day before he left would be bittersweet — sad of course, but with the excitement of going back to uni there as well. Of course, this was back before Michael had come into his life. Back when he was occupying his time by buying milk for his mom and bringing his dad lunch at the office, and when heading to uni again meant finally having something to do with his days.

Now, though, the thought of leaving Hillvue makes Luke sick to his stomach. It’s the day of his barbecue, and tomorrow he's got to head out bright and early. There are twenty-four hours left in his life that he gets to be in Michael's company, and he doesn’t plan on even blinking for any of it. He's almost panicking with how fast his brain is moving. He isn’t ready to say goodbye — to any of them.  

The morning of the barbeque, Luke wakes up with Michael tucked under his arm, fast asleep. He can hear noise downstairs and assumes it’s the last of Liz and Andy setting everything up for the party with the clinking and clanking that doesn’t usually accompany their morning routines.

He snuggles into Michael, wanting more time before he has to face the world and the inevitable goodbyes that’ll come along with it, but can’t fall back asleep. He resigns himself to his fate and just stares at his boyfriend until he wakes up.

The party is set to start at noon, so they have time before they have to step into reality, but decide to get ready together, refusing to spend even a minute apart. They take a shower together, no funny business, just wanting to be together as long as they can, and then get dressed.

It’s mostly quiet, the calendar on the wall saying everything they don’t need to. Michael does Luke’s hair, using Liz’s hairspray to have it stand up in a quiff like Calum does sometimes, making comments on how he misses doing this with his cousins, and Luke smiles, glad he can help Michael fill some of the voids in his life. Luke finds himself looking at Michael in the mirror more than doing anything else. He wants to tell him he loves him, to make this last forever. Michael sees Luke staring and sticks his tongue out. Luke smiles and repeats the gesture.

Once the party begins, Luke and Michael stay attached to each other, hand in hand, as they greet every family member and friend that comes by to see Luke off to uni. Calum and Ashton show up, together, each with a hug. They don’t spend much time in each other’s company, they’ll get a chance to do that tonight, so they head their own separate ways as the party begins.

Everyone starts drinking and eating, enjoying the nice weather and delicious food, and Luke lets his relatives come by slowly to wish him well in his final year of uni.

Michael stays by his side the entire time.

Around dinner time, a solid few hours since the party began, Luke excuses himself and Michael inside the house to eat. They take cover in the empty kitchen and it gives them a bit of privacy. They’ll have plenty more later at Calum’s, but it’s nice to have a moment now.

“Having fun out there?” It’s the first thing they’ve really said to each other since the party started. There’s a somber mood hidden underneath the pleasantries they’ve been exchanging all night, and Luke’s been too afraid to speak to his boyfriend, too afraid that whatever he says will be the last.

“Yeah,” Luke nods. He smiles small and takes a bite of his kebab.

Michael grins back and looks away. “This is weird, right?”

“Of _course_ it is,” Luke says. He's surprised it took them so long to say something about it, but then again, their time has been occupied by everybody else near all day. “I don’t know what to say to you.” Michael laughs and the sound has Luke feeling lighter already. “It’s feels like I’m preparing for my own funeral out there. It’s nothing like us, what we’re doing. This isn’t normal. How are you not dying inside right now? It’s torture.”

“I expected this, actually,” Michael confesses, “so it’s less intense for me, I think.”

“You _expected_ this?”

“The silence? Oh yeah.” He's pursing his lips, blunt in the words he says. “Yesterday you started to get quieter towards the end of the night.”

Luke thinks back to the night before as they were packing up all of Luke’s bags. He'd stopped saying as much, stopped joking, as time ticked on. “I was tired - ”

“Yeah, but this was more than usual.” Michael shrugs. He doesn’t seem upset in Luke’s silence, just saying what he saw. His lack of subtlety still hurts. “You showed signs.” Luke pouts, not having a way to combat Michael's observation, and goes back to eating. Michael laughs. “It’s alright, Princess. We have all tonight to talk, and be mushy or sappy or whatever you wanted for today. This is a party for your family to say goodbye to you. We’ve got time left.”

They don’t have any time left.

Luke goes to say something, maybe to convince Michael to say or tell him that he loves him, he's not sure. He doesn’t get the chance, though, as the door to the kitchen opens and everyone comes in. Or not everyone, but the only two people at this party that’d interrupt their private moment without a single bit of guilt.

“ _Hey_!” Luke instantly lights up at Calum’s loud entrance. It’s been a long day of somber goodbyes, but it’s good to be surrounded by friends. “Not sure how I feel about you two having a moment without us. Why should Michael get more alone time than me?”

“Because we’re dating, Calum,” Michael answers his question, reaching across the counter they’re standing at to grab Luke’s hand.

“Are Ashton and I _not_ an equal part of your relationship?” Calum asks, no sign of it being a joke. “ _Honestly_.” Michael's eyes narrow, but Calum glares back even harder. “I know you fucked on my couch, and I still let you stay there.”

Michael flushes instantly and looks down at his plate. Luke can’t help but burst out laughing, loving that somebody can embarrass Michael quiet. It’s great to see. “Why are you in here?”

“Because we missed you,” Ashton answers. Michael grabs Luke’s paper plate from in front of him and throws it away. Ashton tracks the movement with his eyes. “Why are you sitting in here?” he asks. “There are open spots at our table for you.”

“We wanted to get away from the crowd of people saying goodbye to me.”

“Then how about you go say goodbye to _them_ and we take this party to my place?” Calum’s grinning widely, hands clapping together once. Luke’s ready. It’s been an emotional day, saying goodbye to his extended family. All he wants to do is be surrounded by the people that made this summer the revolutionary time that it was.

Michael has a different idea, though. “He's got to spend more time with his parents.”

“Michael's right,” Luke agrees, cringing as he does. He's been avoiding them for a reason, but he has to face the music sooner or later. “I’ve hardly seen them today.”

“Then go!” Ashton urges him, moving slightly to the left so a path open up straight to the door. “There’s only so long until the sun goes down, and I intend to be plastered by then.”

“ _Ashton Irwin_!” Ashton rolls his eyes and shoves Calum for his comment.

“Go on, Princess,” Michael says, voice quiet as Calum and Ashton bicker to each other. Michael's hand comes to rest at the curve of his waist. “Say your farewells and then we’ll all head over to Calum’s.”

Luke leans down and kisses Michael before he heads off. When he tries to pull away, Michael grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in. It’s by far one of the more racy kisses they’ve had in front of their friends, and it’s intoxicating as hell. Calum cheers in the background and when they actually do pull away, it’s with Michael wearing a smirk and Luke with a blush

Luke clears his throat, biting his lip as he spares at look at Ashton and Calum. “What was that for?”

“A bit of confidence,” Michael nods. Luke already knows exactly what he's talking about. He'd been thinking all day that he just needed Michael to push him in the right direction, and this is it.

Luke heads out the door, but not before he hears Ashton’s confused voice asking, “Confidence for what?”

He can see his parents the moment he steps back outside, but it takes a few minutes for him to actually reach them as some guests come over and stall him as he tries to make his way over.

It’s more than a relief when Andy eyes him. His smile is big and Luke instantly feels confident that he can tell them the truth he's been hiding for the past three years. “There’s our Luke,” Andy greets.

Liz looks over, a matching smile on her face when she spots her son. “You’ve been quite the social butterfly tonight.”

“Everybody wants the chance to say goodbye,” Luke shrugs, leaning up to hug his mom.

“Goodbye?” Liz chuckles. “You’ll back in three short months. It’s a farewell, if anything.”

For most of them, it’s true. Luke can’t help but think of Michael. The one person he's hardly said much to today is the only person this is a really goodbye for. He has a plan to try and convince Michael one last time to give them a chance, but if he fails this is it. All their work this summer, all the love that they hold for each other, it’s over, and their chance for forever is gone.

“So how are you enjoying the party?” Andy asks, pulling Luke back to reality before he can disappear too deeply into his head. “You know, it’s not the first one being thrown here…”

Luke rolls his eyes, only surprised he didn’t see this coming earlier. “You just love to bring that up, don’t you?”

“I most certainly do.”

“Dad’s always teasing me about the party - the one that wasn’t even my idea, and mom,” Luke takes a deep breath. “You’re always getting excited about me being a lawyer.”  

“Well I have a reason to be, don’t I?”

“That’s just it, though…”

As Luke trails off, Liz and Andy look at each other confused. Liz eventually asking, “What are you going on about, dear?”

It’s been three years since Luke started uni, three years since he announced to his parents he was going to be a lawyer. It was the truth, back then. He honestly believed he was going to finish his education and go off to become a big shot lawyer in Newcastle, working his damndest to change the world, one case at at a time.

It’s not where he's headed now. The idea of spending everyday in court, a stiff suit his uniform, as he has to argue with everyone just to make his point… it’s not something Luke could ever do. He wants to change the world still, but he wants to do it with his art, to share a beauty with everyone they couldn’t see if he was trapped in a loveless career.

Everything he's about to go through - his last-chance attempt at saving his relationship, the goodbye he'll have to say if it fails - is enough hurt, enough pain, to make him say what he needs to. He doesn’t think he can live with the pain, but if he gets rid of some of this guilt, maybe it’ll be less trying.

“‘ve been lying to you,” he confesses.

His parents are quiet as the words sink in. Eventually, Liz blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“’ve been lying to you,” he repeats. “I went to uni to be a lawyer, but I changed my major.”

“You lied to us?” Liz asks. The words have been repeated enough they aren’t sound like real words anymore. “Wait, you changed you major?”

Luke wants to cower, to change his mind, to ignore eye contact, but he knows he can’t. He looks to his left and sees Michael watching from a table nearby. He gives a thumbs up, and suddenly Luke feels like he can do it.

“I did,” Luke tells his parents. “At first I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t certain I wanted to stay an Art History major, but after time, you just seemed so proud of me, and I was too afraid to disappoint you.”

Liz frowns, looking like he doesn’t know what to say, but next to him, Andy laughs. “Luke, you could never disappoint us.”

“Just because you aren’t going to be a lawyer doesn’t mean you won’t be successful or happy,” Liz adds on, breaking out of his confused silence.

Luke smiles, suddenly wanting to cry. He knew they’d be accepting, knew that he was crazy to ever think they’d do anything other than frown at his dishonestly before being the kind, loving parents they’ve always been, but he wouldn’t have done anything without Michael's support.

“We love you, Luke.” Andy’s hand lands on Luke’s shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. “Even if your major changes, that never will.”

Luke grins and hugs them both. It’s been a long time coming that they have this moment, and now that it’s finally here, Luke feels victorious and alive in a way he hasn’t in a while. He can see Michael watching with a smile on his face, and it’s yet another reminder that it’s all because of him that this is happening.

Another fifteen minutes is spent standing with his parents, making the best conversation they’ve had in three years. It’s the first time Luke’s felt completely free with them since changing his major, and he gets a bit carried away until Andy looks over Luke shoulder with a smile.

“I think your friends want you,” he laughs, gesturing behind Luke.

He looks over to see the guys staring at them blatantly, no subtlety in their actions. “Yeah, we’re doing a sleepover at Calum’s. I just wanted to spend some time with you before I left.”   

“Go on,” Liz waves her hand, a smile giving away that he isn’t angry in the least. “Enjoy your last summer of freedom.”

“You’ll be a full adult next summer, degree under your belt and everything.” Luke smiles at Andy’s joke, and not because it was funny. He feels light, having finally got his secret off his chest, all thanks to his spectacular boyfriend. “Do you have everything you need? Is the car all packed?”

“I do,” Luke nods. “Michael helped me load everything up last night.”

“After he made you wash the car?”

Liz laughs, “I didn’t know there was a car under all that dirt, honest,” and Luke laughs right alongside her. “Alright, love. Go be with your friends. We’ll see you in July?”

“Of course.” he gives the both a hug, exchanging ‘I love you’s, but they don’t say goodbye. This isn’t a goodbye, and they’ll see each other again.

He parts from his parents and runs over to the guys, throwing himself into a hug with Michael. Michael hugs back, just as tightly. “I’m proud of you.”

“We’re all proud, whatever.” Calum rolls his eyes and pulls the boyfriends apart. “Now, let’s bring this party to my house.”

It’s decided then, that they leave the barbecue, one final farewell to the family and friends that joined them today, and go off to Calum’s for their own personal party. Ashton immediately takes over the music, fighting with Calum before ultimately winning a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Calum pouts for all of thirty seconds until Ashton plays the Supergrass song their small group was once almost torn apart by, and then Calum’s entire body is taken over with laughter. The best part is the look of sheer pride on Ashton’s blushing face, that he managed to pull such a reaction from Calum, who can be quite finicky when he doesn’t get his way.

From there, Calum pulls out every bottle of alcohol he has in his cabinets and insists they get to work in getting fucked up. Calum and Ashton truly take the crowns for most efficient obliteration as Michael and Luke know they won’t just be sleeping it off, planning on staying up all night, so they stick to two drinks each.

The night goes on, Ashton and Calum slamming back drinks as Michael and Luke watch on, enjoying the show they put on. It’s better than if they’d all just watched a movie together, more entertaining. When it comes time for bed, Ashton and Calum pass out downstairs, no energy in them to make it upstairs. Ashton at least makes it to the couch, but Calum ends up on the bathroom floor, not from throwing up - he just loves the cool of the tile floor.

Michael pulls Luke upstairs and into Calum’s spare room the very moment the other two are done for. “I love those two, but I’m glad we get this time,” he says as they both take a seat on Michael's makeshift bed. “We only have a little bit of time left, and I want you to myself sometimes. I don’t like sharing you so much when you’re getting ready to leave.”

Luke knows this is his only chance, now that they’re alone, and they’re feeling so much with the emotional toll the day put on them, if he can’t make Michael come with him now, it’s a lost cause. “Well I’m not the one saying our time is almost up, am I?”

“Luke.” Michael's eyes meet his and he's shocked with what what he sees and hear. It’s not said with the surprise or sadness that it usually is. Michael just looks and sounds exhausted at this point, and Luke slowly starts to realize why.

“You’re never going to let me convince you, are you?” he asks. Michael stays silent, and Luke begins to get it. “After everything we’ve been through, everything we have and haven’t said, you’re still so afraid of letting me in. You won’t let me try and talk you into making this go on because you’re _scared_.”

Michael shakes his head, slow and calculated. “It’s not the right time. We’ve both got some growing to do.” It’s not just disagreeing with Luke, he's not petulant like Luke would think he'd be. He knows what he's saying, he believes it, and Luke’s left confused.

“Michael, what. I grew _with_ you. We can grow with each other.”

“Luke.” he's determined with this. Luke can see how much Michael means everything he's saying, that it’s not _fear_ that’s keeping him from making this a forever kind of thing. He knew all along what this was. “You came into my life at the perfect time for what this was, but now is not the time for us to go on. We aren’t ready to exist in each other’s lives as a permanent fixture.”

At first, Luke feels nothing but anger at his words, at the thought that all along, Michael knew that they’d never go on, and let Luke think they would, but then he remembers that Michael had always been honest, that he never let Luke think this could be more. It was Luke that got confused in it because Michael never told his a reason _why._

All this time, Luke had been thinking Michael didn’t have a reason, that he was so used to being alone, he didn’t know how to be with someone else, and while that’s still true, there’s so much more to it.

He nods, suddenly seeing what Michael was trying to convey every time he said he wanted to see Luke long past the summer but couldn’t. It’s not that they couldn’t make it, because they could, and Michael knows it and wants it just as bad as Luke. They aren’t the deciding factors in this - it’s the timing. Where they stand with each other, the point in their lives that they’re both at, are too separate from each other to work as seamlessly as Luke wants to believe.

He's still discovering himself, still trying to find his place in this world. He did amazing, fearless things this summer, things he'd have never done before, but he needed someone to push him to do these things, to conquer his fears, to realize that he was capable of so much more than just _existing_.

At the beginning of summer, before he met Michael, he sat at home, waiting for adventure to find him, and it _did_ , but he could’ve gone out and done those things on his own, didn’t need to wait for Michael to pull her out. It was _Luke_ that was scared. He was afraid of taking risks and being who he was. He needed Michael, needed that push, and it was great because it truly helped her come into her own, and while he wants to continues, wants to think he's ready, he isn’t. He still has uni to finish, has to find her voice with her art, has to be who he is without Michael. He needs to go on her own and really be himself. He has to learn to conquer her fears on her own lest he become too dependent on Michael for everything.

They can’t be too dependant on _each_ _other_.

Even if Luke were ready, Michael has his own things to work out as well, has to work out his feelings of not being enough. He needs to find worth, needs to find this validity inside of himself. Because while Luke can tell him he's worth the world and make him feel like a goddamn king, Michael has to know it himself. It’s wonderful to have a support system, but he needs to believe in himself as well.

They could be together, they could make this work, Luke’s not wrong about that. They could make it in this crazy, cruel world together-

But not now. It’s not the proper time.

“You’re right.” It’s the first time he's agreed and not argued, and only now does he see Michael's crying. “Michael, I’m so sorry.”

“Luke - ”

Luke shakes him head, suddenly angry with himself for refusing to see that they were what each other needed at the time, but that they weren’t ready to fully commit. “I spent all summer worrying, I should’ve just - ”

“Luke, _please_.” At his sad, pleading tone, Luke can’t help but start crying.  “We’ve three more hours before you leave,” Michael tells him. “Don’t spend it regretting a single thing. You were worth it all.”  

Michael pulls him in and kisses him, deepening it every time Luke tries to pull back. It’s their last night together, and they decide to make the most of it, making love together one last time.

When they’re done, they spend the rest of the time lying together, face to face, just enjoying being in each others company. It’s the last time they get to do this, but Luke doesn’t cry any more. He saves it for the trip home.

In the morning, when the analog clock on the wall turns seven, they get out of bed, get dressed in last night’s clothes, and go wake the other two hungover fools up. It easier to wake Ashton up, and just mentioning it has him insisting it’s because Calum needed to drink more water the night before. Calum rolls his eyes and disappears up the stairs for moment, leaving Ashton to his rolling monologue over how none of the boys take proper care of their bodies.

When Calum comes back downstairs, he has a small piece of paper in his hand, and he pulls Luke away from the group. Luke realizes this is it, this is where they begin to part.

Calum hands the paper to Luke. In turning it over, he realizes it’s a polaroid of the four of them, taken in a booth at the karaoke bar a few weeks prior. Luke’s eyes are droopy, and he's leaning heavily against Michael, whose lips are are pressed against the side of his head. Calum’s sitting on the back of the booth, behind the couple, a cheesy grin on his face. Ashton’s next to them, trying to put bunny ears behind Luke’s head, but he's a little off - something that makes Luke giggle through the lump in his throat.

“I know you can be a bit sentimental,” Calum says as Luke’s eyes scan over every detail on the polaroid, “and I know that you’ll find a better place for this than I ever could.”

“Thank you.”

Calum laughs, pleasantly ignoring the tears in Luke’s voice. “And I think you need it the most right now.”

Luke nods. He wants to cry looking at the happy faces smiling back, but he wants to make it through everybody before his breakdown. They’ll never be together like this again. “You’re very perceptive,” he says in lieu of actually crying like he wants to.

Calum laughs again, arms reaching out to pull Luke in for a hug. “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too.”

They pull back, and Luke can see that Calum’s eyes are wet, but he's grinning through it, not letting his tears fault. “I’ll see you in a few months?”

“Three,” Luke specifies.

“And in the meantime,” his voice lowers and he sounds more than serious, so Luke listens closely. “ _Please_ , for goodness sake, fuck the patriarchy.”

It’s ridiculous, utterly Calum, and _exactly_ what Luke needed to interrupt the depressing route their exchange was going down. He busts out laughing, leaning in for another quick hug. “Of course.”

He leaves Calum then to go see Ashton. They didn’t say goodbye because they didn’t need too. They’ll meet again.

“Ashton!” Luke yells happily upon seeing his best friend waiting for him.

Ashton frowns, eyebrows dropping with the motion. “You really won’t call me Urban Irwin?”

“Never,” Luke answers honestly, doing his best not to cringe at the name. “You’ve been trying for about a week and it hasn’t stuck. It never will.”

“I’m coming to visit after mock exams,” Ashton persists. “I want you to call me it then.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

Ashton pouts then. “What if I paid you?” Luke can’t help but laugh, shaking his head because Ashton’s never going to stop, but Luke’s never going to concede. “It was worth a shot I guess.

“Was it?”

Ashton smiles and shakes his head, pulling Luke in for his third hug of the day. “See you soon.” Ashton’s visiting him at uni, this isn’t a goodbye. They’ll see each other soon.

Michael walks up to them, hand on Luke’s upper arm and a reserved smile on his face. “Walk you to the car?”

Luke nods, leaving his best friend with one last smile. They go, hand in hand, Luke sliding the polaroid picture in his back pocket, a physical memory of the place he's leaving behind.

Calum and Ashton follow them to the door, but stand at the entryway as Michael walks Luke down to his car.

“I guess this is it then,” Luke says. He thought he’d feel more hopeless at this point, like he couldn’t go on, but there’s some hope in him, hope that one day they could cross paths again. Maybe when they’re both ready for it.

“The greatest summer of my life, all coming to the end just because you have to go away to get an education.” Michael's smiling, the moment light and the words easy. “It’s ridiculous.”

Luke laughs, loving the glow about Michael when he does. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

There are tears in his eyes, and when Michael looks up, a foolish smile on his face, Luke can see the wetness of his eyes as well. “If you think, Luke Hemmings, that there’ll be a day that goes by that you aren’t on my mind, you’re crazy.”

“I think we’re both a bit crazy,” Luke says, not joking in the least.

“I think you’re right.”

Michael leans up, standing on his toes to kiss Luke, a small peck of a thing. He's got to leave soon, he knows, but standing in the driveway in the early morning, dew still on the grass and a chill in the air, Luke likes to think they could live in this moment forever.

Though if this summer has taught him anything, it’s that everything must come to end, _especially_ if it’s good.

“You’re still here for a week or so, right?” Luke asks trying to make small talk before he has to leave, Michael nodding an answer. “What kind of hell are you and Calum going to raise in the meantime?”

“I can’t tell you that, Princess,” Michael says, a chuckle in his voice. “If we get caught, I need you on my side. You’ve got to have plausible deniability, right?”

The moment his words sink in, Luke can feel a giant smile taking over his face in an excited gasp. He's filled wil shock and wonder, the happiest he's felt all day. “ _Michael_ , oh my god.” Michael laughs at his reaction, nose wrinkling as he does. “You used it correctly, I’m so proud of you.”

He swoops down and captures Michael's lips in a kiss, bigger than before. Ashton and Calum start cheering from the door, and Michael pulls away laughing, a soft smile forming.

“We’re alright,” he says.

Luke nods, knowing exactly what he means. It’s been a long summer, and it may seem like they won’t go on in life without each other, but they will. They have to.

“We’ll get by.”

Luke kisses Michael one last time, wanting one last taste of the only person he's ever going to love this much. They mouth the word ‘bye’, and though they’re both trying to hold it together, he can see tears forming in Michael's eyes, and his own are only a moment away from falling over.

Not knowing what else to do or say, he pulls Michael in tight, a last hug that has both of them releasing a sob. Luke knows they can’t stay here forever, he's got to get on the road in order to make it in time for orientation, and Michael has to -

Well, Michael has to get packed for Adelaide. There’s no changing his mind, no pulling him into the car and forcing him to Sydney. As much as Luke thought he’d be able to find a loophole, to find a way that they could be each other’s forever, he can’t. Their time is up, and he's seen the truth.

This is their goodbye.

They part, both wiping their eyes and laughing a bit pathetically as they do so, and Luke opens the door of his once-dirty car. The shine mocks him, a memory of something he’ll never have again. As he gets in, closing the door behind him, he can see Ashton and Calum watching from the doorway of Calum’s house.

He sits for a minute, feeling the heat of the confined car soak into his bones, a punishment of sorts for leaving behind the best people he's ever known. With one last sad smile, he starts the car and effectively ends the moment, ends the summer, and ends the greatest relationship he's ever had. Luke drives off knowing that he’ll never get the chance to tell Michael how much he loves him back. But it’s better this way, he's certain.

Michael will never know the loss Luke knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading all the way through! Let me know if you'd want a sequel of when Michael and Luke meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my fics, you can [Buy Me A Coffee](http://ko-fi.com/sapphicbee) :) 
> 
> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sapphicbee) | [Tumblr](http://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com)


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